The Late Promised Prince
by SigurdofLangf
Summary: Winter Has Come, the Champion of Light never arrived to face the Darkness. The Lord Commander lay dead, but still time marches forward. With or without him. For the Night is Dark and Full of Terrors. Yet still tiny flames dance upon that Lord Commander's body. Like the Heroes of Ages Long Passed. But best not tarry long, flames can still be snuffed out.
1. Chapter 1

The Late Promised Prince

Chapter 1

The forces of the Stag dragged them to their King and forced the traitors to kneel. The Stag King walked along the mutineers of the Night's Watch with much distain. They knelt before him fear in there, except for one the lead mutineer, Master-at-Arms Alister Thorne. Alister smiled, gleefully at the Stag King, proud of his grand treachery. The Stag King looked down at the First Ranger.

"Alister Thorne, you stand accused of mutiny and killing your Lord Commander…how do you plea?"

Alister Thorne smiled, unforgiving in his demeanor.

"Everything I did, I did for the Watch, and the Lord Commander, he deserved to die for his errors."

The Stag King, did not seem to by the first ranger's motivations.

"So be it…I now sentence you to die."

With a wave of his hand, the Stag King motioned for his forces to stab the mutineer's in the back. Seven conspirators fell, and were dragged away to be burned to ash or buried alive. It was then the Onion Knight approached, saddened but keeping his composure.

"Lord Stannis, what should we do with his body?"

Lord Stannis, the Stag King took a moment to think about what to do with the Lord Commanders body. Uncertainty flickered in the Stag's eyes.

"If I was a weaker man, I would have once said burn him…"

The Onion Knight shock his head disapprovingly.

"You did what you had to do, she would have burned Shireen alive…"

Lord Stannis, sighed before nodding in agreement.

"In these strange times...what that have been a bad thing, Ser Davos?"

Ser Davos's brow furrowed, and he raised his voice to say.

"She was a vile Red Witch, who brought nothing but despair wherever she went. Besides without such a sacrifice, the North is ours, and Shireen is still here."

Lord Stannis nodded, thankful to have an advisor as firm and steady as Ser Davos. The two began to walk toward one of the towers, where the Lord Commander corpse had been kept. Stannis reflected on his time with the Lord Commander, how he had given him advise and knowledge of the Northern Houses. The Boltons, and their leech lord fell quickly to Lord Stannis, they did not inspire much loyalty. After a few months of bitter combat in the late autumn months, Stannis had won. What made his victory all the more pleasant was when the Eldest Stark daughter came North to the Stark's ancestor home of Winterfell. At first, she went around, proclaiming this land to be her birthrate. Stannis, did not argue that this land was in fact her birthrate. Instead, he proclaimed that she could not defend the North from the South for long. Eventually the eldest Stark daughter proclaimed Stannis Lord Protector of the North, until the threat of the South had passed. It was not Kingship, but lately Stannis seemed to not exactly be in favor of being King of this burning pyre of a country. Ser Davos eventually broke Lord Stannis's thoughts.

"Do you think we should bring him back to Lady Sansa? He might have been a bastard but he was still a Stark, and that has to count for something…"

Lord Stannis thought on it as they approached the coffin that now held the corpse of the Night Commander. His fellow rangers and compatriots stood around him, grieving, bless their hearts some even wept. Lord Stannis remembered the Stark Bastard well, he offered him a place in his army and the Lord Commander had turned it down. Claiming that 'Winter was Coming', and that the Wall needed to be defended above all else. He even offered to legitimize the Bastard make him a true Stark to no avail. With a heavy breath, Lord Stannis looked at the mourning Night's Watchmen, waiting for his decision.

"Bury him, or burn him, it's not my place to say…"

Lord Stannis looked back at the coffin, before shuffling out of the room, Ser Davos close behind. The party of hundred loyal soldiers in Stannis's army began to retreat out of Castle Black. Before heading back down South to Winterfell. Stannis and Ser Davos marched at the front of the army. Stannis looked at cold desolate lands of the North, the snow continued to pile and last he recalled it was only late fall. He turned to Ser Davos.

"How long until Winter arrives?"

Ser Davos paused for a moment before saying.

"Have you not heard? Winter has come."

* * *

The northern air of Westeros has always had a heavy presence especially in the winter. It would take its toll on all things, causing shortness of breath and slow painful death for those kept outside in the cold. You would be a fool to go outside of a haven, especially in the winter. Especially this winter, the hardest one in centuries so far lasting five years. But was Westeros prepared for this devastating Winter? No, they played their games of thrones for that old iron chair, fought their wars and laid their seeds of doubt. They should have been ready, for the nights are dark and filled for terrors. These nights are the most terrifying, the Others walk, the dead rise, the strong prey upon the weak.

Two Red Priests, clad in layers of animal pelts marched North. Though they did not need to wear such things, for the Red Priests were blessed with gift of warmth. It was a rather nice night really, only thirty below and not a severe blizzard in sight. One of them was an old grizzled man from Essos across the sea and other a younger cleric, who recently gained his status. The younger man asked the older cleric.

"Why did we leave Dragonstone? The Promised Prince is there, he will defeat the White Walkers. We should be gathering our strength, not going on a fool's errand."

"He wasn't supposed to be reborn in _that_ tired body. I will not follow that pretender."

The younger cleric sighed, he was protesting the whole journey that had now been going on for nearly five months.

"But why Brast? He is Azor Ahai, reborn. Tired or no, he is our savior."

"Tell me Paelis, does the world look saved to you?"

The older cleric asked, stretching his arms out dramatically to the frozen world. Brast, the older cleric went on.

"Azor Ahai was reborn into a broken man, the Prince who was Promised was not meant to wallow in his misery, and certainly not over some woman. There must be another way for us."

Paelis, rolled his eyes, before saying sarcastically.

"Yeah, and going North to the Shattered Wall is certainly going to aid our chances in this endeavor."

"It is…if the Lord of the Light is shows us the way…"

Brast said as they continued to trend through the deep, thick snow. Eventually they saw it on the horizon line. The Red Priests formed a vague smile at the shattered ruins of the once noble Castle Black. The once glorious headquarters of the Night's Watch, lay covered in snow with most of its towers fallen to ruins. Bits of the Shattered Wall still stood ominously over the fortress. Both of the Red Priests waddled through the snow before reaching Castle Black. Paelis turned to Brast and asked.

"So, who are we looking for again?"

Brast nearly slapped the young priest, but merely uttered sternly.

"Lady Melisandre's body, Lord Stannis killed her a long time ago, nobody knows what he did with his body. The Others barely touched Castle Black. We find her, we resurrect her and work from there."

Paelis sighed as they went into one of the structures still standing as Brast followed close behind him.

"Brast, I'm telling you, your plan has a few holes in it Brast. How do we know they didn't burn her or Lord knows what?"

"We don't…but didn't stop you from coming with me…"

Brast said sternly, Paelis shrugged and said.

"I wanted to see the world, Dragonstone gets boring after away. Besides I'm sick of those Dragon worshiping idiots."

"They're faithful to their Queen."

"They should be faithful to R'hllor, ungrateful cunts."

As the two descended into the dark, Brast lit a nearby torch and they descended into what appeared to once have been the barracks. Somehow it was even colder down there then it was outside. Everything in the room was out of order and or toppled. That did not seem to bother the two Priests who began searching the area. They poured over everything they could, searched every nock and crack as they continued their small talk. Paelis then said.

"Of all the Faithful servants of the Lord of Light to put your all your hope in, you choose Melisandre, all she did was guide that Stag to his Winter Palace."

"She served the Lord longer than either of us, if anyone knew his bidding it's her."

Paelis nodded, still holding out some hope that this was all part of R'hllor's grand plan for War of the Dawn. It was then Paelis opened the door to another room to find an oddity a coffin that lay atop a table. The young Red Priest walked inside, before gesturing to the older one follow. Brast shock his head in disapproval.

"Well the Captains dead, no wonder this place fell apart."

Brast then illuminated the inscriptions of the coffin. Paelis read the inscription aloud.

"Lord Commander Snow…a Bastard that's not surprising."

"Why not burn him, that's my question?"

Brast asked to which Paelis replied.

"Mutiny, Lack of Time, who knows…do you think we could-

"He's a bastard Night Commander, his watch is over…what good would he be?"

The older priest said about ready to turn away and go search elsewhere for his fellow servant. Paelis replied.

"The Lord of Light has plans for all , even the bastards."

"Well we can try, I can't say it'll work, hold this, I'll pry it open."

The younger priest was then given the torch as Brast began to pry open the lid of the coffin. Thankfully it had not been bolted down, so it came off easy. They both got a look at the man in the coffin. In the coffin, lay a man who surprisingly had not decomposed much at all. In fact, he looked relatively normal, almost as if he had just been put to rest. His lean build did look a little drain and his long face looked incredibly tired. Paelis said to himself aloud.

"He looks alright for a deadman, a little rough around the edges, but I've seen much worse."

Brast had to agree, but then he grabbed both of his hands together. He then began to mutter one of the only prayers he ever knew.

"Good Lord of Light, I ask of you, as your humble servant, shine upon this man. Bring him back from the cold dark of death. His flame has been extinguished, restore it to life."

Brast repeated this phrase five or six times for about a minute. Paelis, looked on still holding out the smallest ounce of hope. But nothing happened, this Lord Snow just lay there in his tattered frozen armor with dried blood around gapping gashes. Both Priests sighed, before beginning to retreat back to the door of the room. Then an unusual thing happened, the man in the coffin gasped for breath. Astonished, both men turned around to see the man in the coffin, sitting up right. Feeling over his body, still in shock. His wounds were being healed at an impressive rate. They rushed over to him, faith in their Lord renewed.

"Praise be, the Lord of Light has found another servant."

Brast said, approaching the Lord Commander at a brisk pace. Still in shock, Paelis grabbed him by the arms and helped him out of the coffin. The young Red Priest then sat him on a nearby chair. Paelis looked the recently dead Lord Commander in the eyes. He still seemed to be having a hard time grasping his surroundings.

"Easy…Easy, calm yourself Lord Commander Snow…"

After a few moments and more uneven breathing, the Lord Commander was able to calm himself. He then asked in a dry clammy voice.

"Who are you…what happened?"

Brast took the initiative.

"We are the Servants of the Lord of Light, come from Dragonstone to find the path he wishes us to find."

The Lord Commander seemed to be remembering vague thoughts related to the Lord of Light. His grey eyes shined in the torch light.

"Like the Red Woman?"

Both Red Priest looked at each other happily. Brast feeling ever more please asked.

"Yes…Melisandre, do you know her?"

"I…I…I recall her but, I can't remember…what happened?"

The Lord Commander reeled in pain, his body still not fully recovered. Paelis again tried to calm him down.

"Lord Commander, how do I put this gently-

"You died a very painful death and we brought you back…"

The Lord Commander shock his head in denial.

"No…no…no, you don't understand the Others…the White-Walkers-

"We know…best come with us Lord."

Brast said interrupting the Lord Commander, mid-sentence. They slowly began to guide him outside of the shattered ruins of Castle Black. When the Lord Commander saw the destruction before him, it almost did not seem to register with him at first. The Wall, was torn down, only long glacial towers stood in their place. The Lord Commander then turned to the Red Priests and said.

"How could this happen, what happened to the Watch, what happened to the Wall?"

This time it was Paelis's turn to answer.

"The Night's Watch fell apart about five years ago, around the same time the Others broke through the Wall…then they went South…to the North, the Riverlands, the Vale…and so on."

The Lord Commander, fell to his knees and into the snow unable to comprehend what had happened. Brast put a hand on the Lord Commander's shoulder.

"…I know it's hard, but please, you must not blame yourself. Besides you must Rejoice…the Lord of Light has brought you and many more back from the grave to fight in the Battle for the Dawn…boy what is your name, speak it and come with us."

The Lord Commander took a moment to collect himself before standing up, making eye contact with the Red Priests and saying.

"My name…is Jon Snow."

 **Authors Note:**

 **Honestly just an idea I had not sure if it'll go anywhere.**


	2. Chapter 2

The Late Promised Prince

Chapter 2:

Jon Snow, shivered as he followed the two Red Priests. He was still cold, and his memories where clouded. Pain coursed through his frozen body, and he felt generally sore. The two Red Priest, seemed happy enough even though after a day of searching for any signs from the Lord of Light. Though they were not about to complain, for they thought they had another follower in the form of Jon Snow. They convinced Jon to come south with them, though they did not say specifically where. The way Jon saw it, his watch was over since he did in fact die. Seeing as the Watch was no more, there seemed to be no point staying at the Shattered remains of the Wall anyway. After a few hours spent walking south, they set up camp. The Shattered Wall still in clear view of the Jon, who still could believe the sight. That wall had stood for eight thousand years, built by the founder of House Stark, and to see it in such low standing would surely have brought Bran the Builder to tears. When the Red Priests set up camp, the younger one used flame magic to start a small fire. It was not much, but it was better then nothing. Brast, the older priest said to Jon.

"Gotta make small fires, make sure the dead don't see e'm."

Paelis grew pale, and said.

"I thought there weren't that many dead in the North."

Brast grew solemn, and turned to Jon Snow and Young Paelis.

"There's undead all over, from the North to Dorne, c'mon now Paelis you should know that by now."

Jon took a moment to process this before asking.

"What happened to the Seven Kingdoms, surely the Others didn't-

"They did…they killed nearly everyone of name or overwise…and only added them to their ranks."

Brast said, dismay and sadness in his voice. The news of that hit Jon hard, and he dreaded asking his next question.

"Tell me everything."

It took Brast a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Well, they made quick work of the Northmen, and even quicker of those in the South. They ravaged the Riverlands, then the Reach and the Westerlands. King's Landing was already being torn apart by conflict, the White Walkers barely had to do anything there. Last I heard much of the Vale is still fairing as well as you can hope, Dorne's currently under siege, the Lord bless their hearts and deliver swift victory."

The last words rang hollow for Jon Snow, he worshiped the Old Gods, and his only experience with the Lord of Light had been with Lord Stannis. Though Lord Stannis and his Red Woman did very little to convert Jon Snow into their way of thinking. The Red Priests were doing a little bit of a better job, how else could he have been brought back to life. The Old Gods weren't that forgiving. Jon looked a little disheartened by the news of the Seven Kingdoms now reduced to frozen rumble. He was a protector of the realm, the Lord Protector and he failed before even beginning to truly fight the Others. Still he held a small flicker of hope in his torn and stabbed heart.

"What of the Starks of Winterfell?"

The Red Priests both shrugged never of them had an answer. Paelis answer this time, he pocked the fire with a long stick cast aside from a fallen tree.

"Don't know about the Starks, we came from Widows Watch, the King's Road is infested with the Dead, best to not go on any of the roads."

Jon got up on his own two feet and began to edge into the pure darkness.

"I need to get to Winterfell, I…I just need to see it…"

Brast, the older Red Priest got up with him and drew a crude sword made out of Dragonglass.

"Why would you do that boy? You're in the service of R'hllor the Lord of Light, whether you like it or not."

"I didn't ask to be in your God's service. Just let me leave-"

Jon snapped back before Brast with misshapen sword in hand edged the blade closer to Jon Snow's neck. To which Brast angrily replied.

"None of us did! Now…sit down."

Jon backed up as Brast edged the crude blade closer to the former Lord Commander, instinctively Jon began to search for his Valayrian steel blade Longclaw. But then he reminded himself that the Watch would not have buried him or rather attempted to bury him with a highly sought after Valayrian steel sword. The older Red Priest gestured for Jon Snow to sit back down at the campfire. Which the former Lord Commander did, instantly. Paelis the younger one watched in silence not daring to defy the older priest in this instance. Brast put the short blade away.

"Now…Jon, I'm sorry I had to do that, but you don't wanna go out there…the Night is Dark and full of terrors."

"I can survive on my own, I've faced them before."

Brast chuckled to himself, as Paelis watched on.

"Sure ya have-

Jon quickly growing angry with this discussion said.

"Yes, I have, now give me one good reason why I should still be following you two around and your Red God? Cause right now I'm having a hard time thinking any of the Gods exist if the world has come to this..."

Brast and Paelis trembled a bit, they were not used to R'hllor being insulted in the open. Though Jon did have a point, if the old Gods, the Seven, and or R'hllor did exist, why would they let the world come to this? Brast gave himself a moment to calm himself from Jon's comments. He then said.

"Assuming, you did in fact face the others...you did that if an army in the form of the Night's Watch and a Wall to fall back on, well guess what, we have neither of those _Commander_ Snow. Now tell me, why is Winterfell so damn important to you?"

Brast frustration beginning to overtake him. Jon took a moment, to calm himself. Paelis nodded before nervously edging closer to the crackling flame. Brast sat back down and sighed again. Jon waited patiently before saying in a somber tone.

"It's my family…the Starks, I'm Ned Stark's Bastard…and if I must serve your God, please just grant me this request and I will do anything you want…just let me see Winterfell the damage done…and if anyone there still breathes."

Jon spoke earnestly, and more honestly then he had ever spoken in his entire life. The two Red Priests seemed to soften there expressions. Even though he was a bastard, Jon still missed his family. Truth be told it had been a long time since he thought about the Starks. His father Ned, the most honorable of men to walk this earth. Then his brothers, Robb, Bran and little Rickon. His sisters Arya and Sansa, seven hells he would give anything to even see the disapproving face of Lady Catelyn Stark. Both of the Red Priests nodded before Brast saying.

"Fine but we then head to White Harbor and make safe passage to the Vale…"

"I never agreed to that..."

Jon said bitterly.

"Well what other options do you have, we could let you die in the North and be torn apart by Wights...or you could come with us "

Brast said smugly, Paelis then asked.

"Do you think the Brotherhood without Banners is in the Vale."

Brast nodded.

"Yeah, last I heard they had made an agreement with Lord Peter Baelish to offer protection in exchange for food."

Jon did not know what to make of the Brotherhood without Banners or this Lord Baelish, he assumed simply much more had changed in the five years since his…death. The fire began to smolder as Jon and the two Priests drifted off to sleep. Jon thought about slipping away into the pure darkness of the night, but even he knew he probably would not have gotten very far. For as the two Priest said…the Night is Dark and Full of Terrors.

Morning came or what Jon could only assume was dawn. It was still so dark, almost like the sun had just set. The clouds above made it so not a sliver of light was showing. The two Red Priest seemed used to it, and in passing they said this was the work of the Others who brought Winter and Darkness with them wherever they went. Jon was inclined to believe them in this case and not be as skeptic on the matter. In all of his years in the North, Jon had never seen a winter quite this brutal. Snow laid in massive piles on the ground, in hardened icy patches some standing as tall as the trees in lop sided mounds. Still Jon did not say much to the Red Priests after that night, in return they chatted a bunch amongst themselves. They to walk to Winterfell on their own which in it of itself was difficult. Try walking to Winterfell in tattered cloaks and with mountains of snow all around and not even walking on the main road.

"So Brast, did ever tell you the story of Falsio Dal Vond?"

Paelis asked earnestly, to which Brast replied.

"Yes…six times in fact."

"C'mon it's a great story, Jon's probably never heard of it."

Jon pricked up at the sound of his name, he had been starring off into the distance for most of the walk.

"What?"

The former Lord Commander asked looking at the smiling face of young Paelis.

"C'mon you're going to love this, I'm named after the King in this story."

Before Paelis could even start his story, a distant sound was heard in between the howling of the wind. A low moaning that could only mean one thing. The three men grew silent, before getting down low behind a large pile of snow. They peered over it to find two wights, resurrected by the Others. Jon's eyes grew wide when he realized they were soldiers for House Umber. There sigil was faded but you could still make out the chains. Jon looked toward the Red Priests and said.

"Give me a sword, I'll make quick work of them."

Brast shock his head disapprovingly.

"No, no, they're just scouts, let them pass. Besides don't give us away."

Jon grunted silently, he knew Brast was right but a part of him wanted to kill those wights. Set them free from this undead curse, nobody deserved that not even the likes of Allister Thorne. It was then Jon winced in pain, somehow just the name of Allister Thorne sent his body into shock. Then visions began to dance in his eyes, of Allister Thorne coming up to him and stabbing him and the saying those familiar words… _For the Watch._ Jon fought through the pain the best he could, as he continued to watch the wights waddle through the snow. Eventually they passed and the three men continued their journey south.

In all honest, Jon was not quite sure what to expect when he got to Winterfell. There was pit in his stomach when he saw the towers of Winterfell off in the distance. A feeling of dread poured over him similarly to when he first found out his Father had been executed. He hoped desperately that there was still a Stark in Winterfell. There always had to be. The crawl to Winterfell was even slower as more wights littered the area here, they carried the crests of House Stark, Umber, Hornwood, Glover and many others. No Boltons or the Karstarks oddly enough. During the last crawl to Winterfell, Jon walked through the forced open gates with uneven breath. The two Red Priest's followed behind, as Jon looked over the destruction of Winterfell. Most of it was gutted, and torn apart by fighting from outside force. How many times had Jon walked these grounds, played with his siblings on those torn down walls, and eaten in those desecrated halls. All of that like the wall was a shattered reflection of its former glory. Jon looked at the armory, he remembers him and Robb teaching young Bran how to shoot with a bow and arrow. It had not gone well for Bran, who could not hit a single target. Father and Lady Catelyn were watching that day, funny thing was Arya had snuck off from her sowing lesson and hit the target on her first try. Those were sweet memories. As Jon looked on in abject dismay, Brast put a large hand on Jon's shoulder.

"Best leave now, Jon, you've gotten your wish."

Paelis then interjected himself into the conversation.

"Now wait a minute Brast, we've been traveling for a while now, let's make camp and leave after we sleep. Besides the dead are out in force it looks like."

Feeling a bit tired himself, Brast replied with.

"I suppose your right, let's set up camp in the courtyard. I'm not taking any chances with something that's not in the open."

Brast said referring to the various narrow and dark passageways of Winterfell. With countless undead roaming the lands, it was not a foolish decision. Again they had started a tiny fire and Paelis got to tell his story. Jon was having a hard time following it, he interrupted halfway through to ask.

"Wait. So, the Tailor is the Dead King's Mother, who kept his bastard daughter a secret for however long, and only revealed her in the vain hope that Falsio _might_ save her."

"Well, yeah but-

Paelis nodded not getting Jon's point. Truth be told the story while entertaining had numerous plot holes. Brast chuckled as Paelis stammered trying to iron out the flaws in his own story. While that was happening, Jon and the Two Priest's heard a creaking noise coming from the north of them. Brast asked.

"What's over there, Jon?"

"The Armory…"

Brast drew two Dragonglass short swords from his thick coat. He gave one to Jon, and whispered.

"Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

Jon said sternly, all three men with Dragonglass swords began to silently march forward toward the armory. It was then as they began to investigate the noise that they were jumped from behind by a dozen men. There weapons stripped from them, and bags placed over their heads. It was then Jon Snow got hit and the head and got knocked out cold.

* * *

 _Jon dreamed in his unconscious state. It was terrifying affair, with all of the Night's Watch mutineer's standing before him. They approached and stabbed him, causing many of his organs and other bits began to fall out of him. Then when they were done, Jon thought it would be over. But instead, he still sat there bleed out in dire pain. He tried to scream but had not the strength. An odd thing happened then, he saw nothing for a moment, and then a dire wolf with a misshapen brown mass over it. As Jon watched the mass come closer, he realized something it was his brother Robb. He wore a great crown and locked as regal as any King would ever have. With ease he dismounted his dire wolf, Grey-Wind, and helped Jon to his feet. Now that Robb was there the pain went away. Robb smiled and said._

" _Jon_ _, can you not be kept out of trouble can you?"_

 _"Robb, how are you...what are you..."_

 _Jon stammered, he was tongue tied. He was lost for words. Robb chuckled as he scratched Grey-Wind behind his left ear. The Dire-Wolf purred a bit when his master did that. Before his late brother said._

" _Yeah, believe me, I couldn't believe it either..."_

 _"So...are you dead, did you-_

" _Yes, and incase you're wondering, I know_ _what it's like to be betrayed…"_

" _Robb…I'm sorry, I would have…I wanted to-_

 _Robb hushed Jon by a raising his hand._

" _Then there's no need to be vengeful anymore Snow. The War is over, all of the Wars are over. Winter is Here Jon. Rejoice."_

 _Jon did not seem to understand what Robb was trying to say. Again, Robb chuckled._

" _The Kingdoms are dead Jon, almost everyone you know is dead…come with me…Father is with me and Mother, even Ygritte, they're all with me…let go Jon."_

 _Robb said desperation in his eyes, Jon was taken aback by his half-brother's words._

" _What? No, Robb, theirs still so much-_

" _No there isn't, everything's dead Jon…Let go Jon."_

 _Jon began to back away, which caused Grey-Wind to snarl and bark at Jon. Robb to looked a bit angry with Jon. But he only continued to parrot the words._

" _Let go Jon…Let go…Jon…"_

 _Jon turned back and began to flee but then, as he turned and ran. He heard a slicing noise. When he faced Robb and Grey-Wind again, he saw that Robb's head had been cut off and cast aside. While Grey-Wind had been shot full of arrows. Still Robb's decapitated head continued only repeating his name._

" _Jon…Jon…Jon…"_

 _The former Lord Commander collapsed, unable to take in the fact that his brother lay dead before him. Then everything went black yet again._

* * *

When Jon came to he was tied to a chair, in the Winterfell Crypts by the look of things. His eyes fluttered open to see a woman starring back at him eyes wide open. She had red-brown hair and lady-like face, her eyes and face were tired and slightly starved. Jon starred back at her for a few moments, before she said in utter disbelief.

"Jon…is that you?"

It took Jon a few moments to register who he was looking at, but when he did a feeling of joy and warmth spread over him.

"Sansa…"

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

" **It's Falcio Val Mond, not Falsio Dal Vond get it right."-Falcio Val Mond**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jon could not believe it, he was staring at his sister. She hardly looked like Sansa anymore, almost resembling a young Lady Catelyn with more Tully then Stark in her blood. They both stood back and each other in disbelief. Until Sansa said in a booming voice, that Jon did not even think his sister was capable off.

"Let him go, he is my brother."

It felt weird to hear those words come from Sansa's mouth. Sansa and Jon never had the best relationship growing up. Jon always had a better relationship with his other siblings, but Sansa had always been cold and distant to him. But there was certain warmth in those Tully eyes of hers. Within moments, to guards in withering Stark armor untied Jon from the chair he currently sat in. He stood up, and Sansa hugged him and held him tightly, almost as if trying to make sure he was real. Jon hugged her back and after a moment the two retreated from one another. Sansa then motioned for Jon to follow her, and turned his head to see the two Red Priests, tied up as well but still out of it.

"What about them?"

Jon asked. To which Sansa replied.

"Leave them be, I still need to question them, and you for that matter. What happened to you Jon?"

"It's a very long story Sansa…"

Sansa and Jon then made their way to a makeshift fire pit with his sister and a few of the other former nobles and lords. He could not help but a few a sense of comfort from seeing some familiar faces and knowing that at these people had not faded from this world or joined with the Others. Jon talked with those around the fire pit for what felt like days, he reminisced on better days with his sister. All of it felt incredibly good. But then he realized something and asked.

"How long have you all been living down here? I mean, what do you eat"

"Mealworms and Grain."

Lord Glover said, unpleasantly, and some of the other Lords gagged. Mealworms were probably the most unpleasant food you could possibly eat. But when that's your only food, you find it hard to complain. Still it is not pleasant to bring it up. Sansa turned to Jon and said.

"So…Jon, what brought you back to Winterfell after all these years…I heard you died…?"

Jon hesitated for a moment, and dared not to say anything about his death.

"I wanted to see if there was anyone still here, and apparently there is…and I've never been so grateful in my life…but what happened, I know Father…Robb and Lady Catelyn are dead but…what about Arya, Bran, and Rickon?"

Sansa looked down at her thin, and dirty hands. She breathed deeply for a moment, and then blinked rapidly as if trying to blink away the tears.

"I don't know what happened to them…Theon may have killed Bran and Rickon…while Arya disappeared in King's Land…probably dead along with the rest of them."

Jon balled up his hands into fists, him and Sansa where the only Starks left in the world. Even though he was a bastard, but that only made him feel even more helpless. But still, they were the last Starks, and that had to count for something. Softening his grip, Jon gently reached for one of Sansa's hands and tried to comfort her. Sansa smiled and said.

"To think…I used to hate you…I'm sorry Jon, could you please find it in you to forgive me?"

"I do…sister, we're family after all."

A small burden seemed to be lifted from Sansa's who softened up in her eyes. Jon then heard the crypt doors open up, and a dozen or so men enter dragging two moose corpses behind them on sticks. Jon was surprised to see two men at the front of pack, both Stannis Baratheon and his hand Ser Davos Seaworth. Both of them looked a bit more grizzled and tired, but it was definitely them. They greeted Lady Sansa with a bow, and Stannis announced.

"My Lady and my Lords, people of the crypts, fear not, we don't have to eat mealworms tonight."

There was a thunderous cheer from the hundred or so people within the crypts. But then Jon noticed a young maiden in a torn gown go up to greet Stannis. She was about his age, only she had an odd grey deformity on the side of her face. Without warning she embraced Stannis and said.

"Thank you…for not abandoning me Father."

It then struck Jon, that girl was Stannis's daughter, he vaguely remembered her prowling the grounds of Castle Black during Stannis's brief stay. She would have looked like a beautiful noble girl if it was not for her greyscale. Though nobody here seemed to mind, considering the dead were marching outside, how unusual or rather pleasant does a girl scarred with a tiny bit of greyscale sound. Stannis smiled as he hugged his daughter.

"Anything for my sweet Shireen."

Ser Davos smiled, as Shireen then hugged the Onion Knight. She whispered into his ear.

"Thank you for protecting my father Ser Davos."

The Onion Knight responded with a hardy.

"Anything for your father."

It took Stannis and company a moment to notice the new face in the familiar crowd of a hundred or so people in the Crypt. When he laid eyes on Jon Snow, his face lit up in rage. With a thick of his wrist Stannis drew his sword and lunged forward to the shock of almost everyone in the room. He pushed Jon against the stony wall, about ready to spill his guts. Lady Stannis stood up and yelled.

"Stannis, stop he's my brother!"

"He's a liar my Lady! Lord Commander Jon Snow, died five years ago. I saw his corpse!"

Jon then went numb, but then the Stark bastard said.

"Two Red Priests brought me back, Lord Stannis you must believe me."

Lord Stannis looked uncertain for a moment, but then stepped back sword in hand. He then said.

"Take off your shirt and cloak…"

Jon starred oddly at Stannis Baratheon, but complied after looking at the serious glare in his eyes. It was then revealed to all, the many gashes that littered Jon's body. Stannis and Ser Davos were a bit shocked, but not entirely surprised. Everyone else starred on in abject horror for a moment. One person in the Crypts shouted.

"He's a lousy Undead Lord Stannis!"

"Slice him open!"

"Kill him!"

A few more scattered agreements were uttered amongst the crowd. But Stannis starred at Jon, before sheathing his blade, he smiled at Jon.

"Well…this certainly is a surprise Lord Snow…now put your clothes back on, the world might have ended but we're not animals man."

A few chuckles emanated from the crowd. Jon smiled a bit before putting his clothes back. The former Lord Commander had a lot of explaining to do, he told Lord Stannis, Lady Sansa, and anyone else willing to hear about how Jon had been resurrected by the two Red Priests currently tied up in the corner. He then explained how they had been traveling south, and eventually ended up in Winterfell. Ser Davos Seaworth was the first one to speak.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say about any of that."

Stannis scoffed as he chewed on some fried moose bits.

"Red Priests Ser Davos, Bastards and Whores through and through…no offense Snow."

"None taken."

Jon said, as Sansa just stared at him uncomfortably.

"You died…Jon, why did not say anything?"

"Well…I wasn't sure how any of you would react, considering the army of dead men running around tearing the Seven Kingdoms apart…"

Sansa thought on it for a moment, and agreed with her brother. She still eyed him a bit wary, but the love in her heart still shined through. Davos then said.

"Don't mind any looks you get Jon, most people used to look at me that way whenever they would ask about my title."

"Did you ever get used to it?"

Ser Davos shrugged at Jon's response,

"Not really, but guess being undead is more significant than being the Onion Knight…Jon Snow, the Undying…has a nice ring to it."

Jon did not seem to share Ser Davos's opinion on the matter. He then listened to the stories Lord Stannis and Davos told about reclaiming Winterfell. How Stannis became Sansa's general and how they made the Boltons pay dearly for their crimes. After a few hours of talking and speaking, most everyone in the crypts went to sleep. Save for a few stragglers remembering the subtle joys of summer. Lord Stannis and Jon talked about their victories and other family stories. But then Stannis told Jon to get up, for he had something for the young Stark boy. The Stag told him to follow deep into the crypts.

"Ya know, when my Daughter first came here Snow, she would spend days and nights in these crypts, just looking at the statues of your past Lords and Ladies, she especially liked the one of your Aunt, Lyanna, I think was her name."

"Aye, that's right."

Jon said, as he followed Stannis down a corridor.

"To think, a whole war started over that woman my brother loved. Do you think we would have been in better shape to deal with the dead if our houses had not usurped the crown?"

Stannis asked in earnest, Jon thought on it for a moment. Robert Baratheon led a relatively peaceful era, it was when he died, along with his Father Eddard when the country descended into chaos. Still, Jon had heard stories of King Aeyrs the Second, or rather the Mad King and his son Noble Rheagar Targaryen. If the crown had not been usurped and Rheagar had been king, Jon could not say for certain if he would have been much of an improvement. After all, it was kind and noble Rheagar who started Robert's Rebellion by kidnapping Lyanna Stark. Though truth be told, Jon had never really thought much about the Targaryen's in that context.

"Can't really say, Lord Stannis."

"Yeah...neither can I..."

Jon refocused his efforts on following Stannis. It seemed Stannis Baratheon of all people knew the Winterfell Crypts better then he, a Stark, did. Stannis and Jon walked among the far edges of the crept, the darkest part of them where few liked to wander. Here the statues of the older Stark's laid, still judging whose who went by with stern glares. The former Stag King broke the silence.

"So…you've come from the release of death, did those Red Bastards tell you anything as to why or how?"

Jon Snow shock his head.

"No…they didn't…Lord Stannis."

"Typical Red Priests, they always leave out the important factors in there grand religion."

Stannis chuckled at that, before pausing his brisk pace to stand before an old wizened statue of some long forgotten Stark Lord.

"I'm not a Lord anymore boy, once maybe of a useless island…but now, I'm just a man serving a Lady and hunting for something that ain't worms…"

Stannis seemed oddly content with those words, almost like being a man and not a Lord held some sort of honor in his heart. Jon looked shocked at Stannis Baratheon, this was the same man who five years ago was proclaim himself a candidate for the Iron Throne. The contrast to Jon was indeed very amazing. Jon then asked, with sincerity in his voice.

"And what would have caused Lord Stannis Baratheon, to reject his claim and give up on the Red God?"

Stannis chuckled a bit, almost as if he was amused by Jon's honesty.

"Why not ask your Red Priests, surely they told you about the _Red Woman_ did they not?"

Jon shock his head, to which Stannis took a deep breath inward. Before slowly beginning his tale.

"My Wife was always more devoted then me when it came to religion…after my Father and Mother died at sea, I can't say I believed much in any god, let alone the Lord of Light. I followed Melisandre because she offered me…power…"

Stannis pause, for a moment, trying to collect himself.

"But then…the War effort kept going wrong, I lost in the War of Five Kings, even though I was the only _King_ left standing. So, Melisandre kept trying to persuade me of her Lord's power…"

The Lord Stannis began to tremble a bit, and Jon took note of this.

"When…I went to go face the Boltons, I had trouble gaining support. The weather was shite and things were not looking good…and that conniving Red Whore…she convinced my wife that to defeat the Boltons…that I needed to offer my daughter…my only child, to the Lord of Light."

Jon's eyes grew wide, as Stannis Baratheon continued to speak. Recalling the painful memories.

"They took Shireen away, and tied her to a pyre, they almost burned her alive…if it wasn't for her screams I wouldn't have heard her and saved her…then I beheaded the Red Woman…and my wife…"

Stannis chuckled, thinking back on it with some sense of satisfaction. Then he turned to face Jon Snow again.

"Lord Snow…know this, the Red Priests are lairs, what kind of God who want you to sacrifice a little girl to appease him…don't trust the Red Priests…any of them…no matter what sweet things they whisper in your ears, do not trust them."

Jon nodded, growing ever more skeptic of the Red Priests. Stannis then began to walk forward and gestured Jon to follow him. The former Lord Commander then asked Stannis Baratheon.

"Yes but…What made you give up your claim to the Iron Throne."

"Ask Lady Sansa, ask one of the surviving members House Umber or Glover…you Northmen gave me respect…that's all I've wanted…not some hollow iron chair…the thing is useless as it is anyway now."

Jon nodded, in agreement, imagining the Iron Throne being as worthless as a sword without a blade. It really made him think about it, and how Robb in his dream said that the Seven Kingdoms were dead. Though when he looked at Sansa, and when he looked at Stannis, Jon imagined the tiny flame vestiges dancing across the kingdoms. They were not dead, at least not yet. Stannis then said something that caught Jon's attention.

"You know the Night's Watch? Well, a few years back about a dozen or so came here after the Wall was torn down. They hunkered down like the rest of us in crypts, then one day, the Brotherhood with Banners came, and all of joined…they left something behind, something I think you'll appreciate."

They made a sharp turn, and went down another corridor to find a makeshift armory filled with dust weaponry not used for at least a year. In the corner, a certain Valyrian steel blade stood on a rack. It was covered in dust but it was unmistakable to Jon Snow. His face lit up again.

"Longclaw."

Stannis retrieved it from the rack, and handed it to Jon.

"Here you are… your boys from the Night's Watch wanted it buried with you but, they never had the chance when the Wall came crashing down, they offered it to me, and how could I refuse Valyrian steel? But it is yours by right."

Jon then looked a bit uncertain and he held the old familiar blade in his hands.

"Are you sure? I could just stay here and you can keep the sword…"

"Lord Snow, you and I both know you're going with those Red Priests, I don't know if you'll stay with them along, Hell, I don't know if you'll live that long…But I know you'll leave this place, cause deep down you still think your Watch is going on…"

Jon paused for a moment, Stannis then gave him a good pat on the shoulder before walking back into the shadows of the inner crypts.

"I hope you live long, Lord Snow…"

"Same to you…Lord Stannis…"

Jon said as Stannis left. The former Lord Commander did not seem to move from that spot for a while. So much had changed, but there was some part of Jon that kept telling him, screaming at him to keep moving forward even under these insurmountable odds. Jon then did an unusual thing, he walked out of the Winterfell Crypts if only for a moment and began to make his way to the Godswood. How many times had his Father come here to clear his head, he remembers bits of his childhood with is brothers and sisters playing in the snow. The Godswood still starred unsettlingly at Jon, almost as if that tree with glorious red leaves was still clinging to some form of faith. As Jon approached, he locked down at the frozen pond that once would show the clearest reflection you could ever imagine. Then he recited his old vows from when he first joined the Night's Watch.

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **I always liked Stannis, I know most people favored Robb or Renly but to me Stannis always seemed like the most tragic figure. A guy who never caught a break and was constantly put down. So yeah, you might not agree with my iteration of him, but I always figured he was the kind of guy who just wanted to be appreciated. Think about how Robert treated him, how Renly treated him. Hell, everyone in the books and the T.V. show said he wasn't funny, do they not understand the dry wit of Stannis Baratheon? I'm ranting at this point, sorry. So just lay off my boy Stannis.**

 **I'm honestly just doing this for fun and to get the creative juices flowing on other personal works. Also I would just like to give a shout out to Lurker, Marvelmyra, Baroniss and Guest, thank you for the reviews and I will try to follow up on your criticism and or expectations.**


	4. Chapter 4

The Late Promised Prince

Chapter 4

Jon sighed as he sat by the Godswood, what was he doing. The Watch was dead, he had been dead for nearly five years, still he had to cling onto something. For Jon that was the Watch where even a Bastard could find glory. Glory, what was glory? Being stabbed by your fellow men over your decisions, if so what a shame. Jon sat on nearby rock, and sat there in self-reflection. What happened next startled him a bit. His brother Robb appeared next to him, he clearly dead having major stab wounds, but still the former King in the North did not seem bothered by it. Though a solemn look of disappointment was visible across his face.

" _You really are an idiot, you know that Jon."_

Jon was speechless for a moment, he was only hoping that Robb would only stay in his dreams.

"You're not real…you're not real."

Robb, or rather the apparition of Robb, seemed to take a lighthearted approach to Jon's shock.

" _Course I'm not…maybe you're just seeing things, maybe I'm a ghost…"_

The former king of the North wiggly his fingers in a joking matter. Clearly not taking any of this seriously. Then Robb stopped fooling around and his smile faded.

" _Or… maybe I'm the part of you that wants to die…pick your poison."_

Jon sighed, but still eyed Robb wearily.

"I don't want to die."

" _Jon, you've already been dead, for five years, you had worries, no wants and no burdens. Come back to us Jon, let go..."_

Jon shock his head, affirming his disdain with Robb.

"I still have work to do, I must defeat the White Walkers."

At that point, Robb Stark got visibly angry at Jon's lack of compliance. He balled his fists, and said.

" _No you don't Jon, face it, you lost, they won. There's a few good men left, and I pray they join us as soon as possible. The world is dead Jon, they're not going to survive the Winter, no matter what you do, no matter what I did or what anyone in this world did, death came for them all."_

Jon could not believe these words where coming out of his once optimistic brother. His confident brother, who was the best and everything Jon was not. From sword-fighting to jousting, how could Robb be in such despair.

"What happened too you Robb?"

" _Simple…I lived to long, and then I died."_

After hearing those words, the former Lord Commander, got up and began to walk out of the Godswood. Clearly shocked by his experience with his dead brother. When he was almost out of the Godswood, the apparition of Robb Stark, was long gone. It was probably for the best. Jon would hate to have the image of his brother tarnished ever more by, what Jon only hoped was a figment of his imagination. Truth be told Jon resented his brother. But he still loved him, and no matter what, Jon could never bring himself to look down upon Robb Stark, or even his memory.

Jon went back into the Winterfell Crypts and got some much-deserved sleep. Truth be told sleeping on the cold damp floor of the Winterfell Crypts was a far cry from a warm bed, but Jon could not complain. After a few hours, Jon groggily awoke to the sounds of men laughing joyfully followed by a Stannis Baratheon hushing them with his booming voice. Slowly Jon got up and approached. It appeared Stannis was questioning the two Red Priests with disdain. Both Brast and Paelis were still tied to their chairs.

"Now, that Red God of yours, he's a good guy, right?"

The two Red Priests nodded wearily, to which Stannis's face twisted into a sadistic grin. It was probably one of the few occasions Jon Snow had actually seen the man smile.

"Have you ever heard of the Battle at Blackwater Bay? I put my faith in the Red God, and guess what happened…"

Neither of the Red Priests answered, to which Stannis only seemed to grow giddier at that remark.

"I lost that battle, rather brutally really. Then I went North and after your Red Priestess tried to burn my sweet Shireen alive, I killed her. I then went to go fight the Boltons, after of course gaining much needed support from the Vale, and Lady Sansa of course…guess what happened?"

Again Stannis waited for a response, to which the Red Priests did not give one.

"I won, now what does that tell you about the Red God? Hell, if he is as powerful as you claim, why hasn't you're Red God, or his Champion killed the White Walkers and chase Winter away?"

At this the younger Red Priest snapped, his wriggled in his seat trying to look intimidating.

"Azor Ahai, is the Prince who was Promised, and he will fight back the darkness in the name of the Lord of Light!"

Stannis and his men got a good laugh out of this, though Jon seemed to equal parts pity the man and understand his position. A random Umber solider in the small gathering of men then said to Paelis.

"Then, where is he? Great Azor Ahai, seemed to be talking his sweet time defeating the darkness."

Another one stepped forward, this time one of House Glover and continued to ridicule the Priests.

"Yeah, what's he doing, does he have his thumb of his arse, is that why he can't defeat the darkness?"

That got a good laugh from the other soldiers, this one an Umber in the crowd. The Umber soldier, who then jokingly asked.

"Who even is this 'Prince who was Promised', is he 'Promised' to never show up?"

Brast muttered a curse under his breathe, but Paelis seemed not to be phased by the constant ridicule. Paelis, then looked nervous before blurting out.

"A faithful knight, who is pledged to the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen…"

The soldiers look of mocking quickly became looks of disgust. Stannis paused for a moment, and Jon's eyes grew wide. He did not even know there still Targaryen's left with any claims on the Iron Throne. The Targaryen line ended before Jon Snow was even born, they died during Robert's Rebellion, when the last vestiges were wiped out when King Robert killed Prince Rheagar Targaryen and when the Lannister's sacked King's Land killing the Mad King and those who were tied by blood to old royalty. Somehow one of their line managed to survive Jon supposed. Stannis sneered for a moment.

"And who is this faithful knight? I've heard your stories, time and time again, who was Azor Ahai reborn into, an Unsullied, perhaps a Dothraki…?"

One of the Stark loyalist soldiers from the crowd then said jokingly.

"Maybe it's the Imp…if so that explains it, he's either to drunk or to small to fight..."

The Red Priest did not respond for a moment, but he tried to little avail.

"Well…some say it's…maybe…umm…"

Stannis read the Red Priests uncertain looks like a newly written book. He then said bluntly.

"You don't have a clue do you…"

The Red Priest shock his head affirming Stannis's belief. This gave Stannis a moment to say.

"The faithful of the Lord of Light, can't even tell us who their savior is!"

With that the ridicule returned, and lasted for another ten minutes before Stannis told the guards to let them go. Then they gave them the last and worst scraps of the moose from the other night, the Red Priests where at the very least grateful. Jon sat with Ser Davos Seaworth, and the Red Priests sat far away from the soldiers and the rest of the people in the cat. Davos glared at the Red Priests angrily from time to time.

"Whatever comes there way, they deserve. If not for what one of them did to my Lord."

Jon nodded understandingly.

"Aye, they nearly killed his daughter, Lord Stannis told me."

Ser Davos sighed, thinking back to those painful days.

"Not only that boy, she convinced Stannis that the Lord of Light would see him on that filthy Iron chair. A good man was nearly destroyed because of those Red Priests…the sooner we get them out of here the better."

Jon looked at Davos in an emotionless sort of stare.

"I'll be going with them…

Davos Seaworth's jaw dropped at that revelation. A few other survivors turned their heads in confusion. Ser Davos, stuttered for a moment before saying.

"You can't do that, you'll die. Think this through, before you do something brash."

Jon sighed, as word he just spoke reached all over the crypts. Truth be told they had very little to talk about, so really anything could of gotten them going. What Jon did not expect was Sansa to get up, walk half-way across the crypts to slap him across the face. The Lord Commander, winced a little bit, it was that painful but Jon was more else shocked by that exchange.

"What is wrong with you?"

Sansa asked sternly, as Jon stood up all eyes in the crypt where now on him. Though eyes did not meet the eyes of his sister.

"Sansa, look I made two vows, one of them was to those Red Priests, the other to the Night's Watch."

The Lady of Winterfell looked confused at Jon's statement.

"The Night's Watch? It died with the Wall, and as for the Red Priests, they're not sane. They'll run off a cliff for their god if they believe he'll save this world."

Jon sighed, before building up the courage to stare at Sansa in the eyes.

"I'd rather die out there then cowering the shadows…look around you, all you."

The former Lord Commander said thunderously, drawing all attention to himself. He still starred at Sansa in the eyes.

"Winter is Here, the White Walkers will not stop until all of us are dead. I may have been dead, I have not seen the horrors you've seen, but…I will find a way to beat them, I understand if will not join me…but still I ask…will any of you join me?

Jon waited a moment, and saw voluntaries, the people here were afraid. Terrified by the very idea of fighting the Others. Jon did not falter though, or look surprised.

"I understand, I'm sorry if I forced this upon you…"

Jon paused for a moment, then his voice became a hushed whisper.

"Please Sansa…just let me go."

Sansa wept a little bit, before embracing her bastard brother. She whispered into ear.

"Promise me you'll come back…Jon Snow..."

"I hope will, Lady Stark…"

Jon backed new belongings that were given to him. Including some clean wolf-skin clothes and a food for the journey. The Red Priests were just given some food, they had clothes on their backs anyway. Stannis and Ser Davos were the ones the guided Jon out of the Crypts. They said their goodbyes, but Jon Snow had a gift for Lord Stannis. From his cloak, Jon pulled out the dark Dragonglass dagger forged on Dragonstone. Both Lord Stannis and Ser Davos, raised an eyebrow at the peculiar looking dagger. Stannis asked.

"What's that hideous thing?"

"This sword, killings White Walkers…it's made of Dragonglass."

Both the eyes of Ser Davos and Stannis Baratheon flew open with astonishment and disbelief. Stannis then said.

"You're pulling my leg Jon Snow."

"It's true, Valyrian Steel and Dragonglass can kill them, I should know…I killed one with Longclaw."

Jon said gesturing to his Valyrian Steel sword. Stannis was beginning to regret not keeping the beautiful old sword of House Mormont. With a light chuckle, Stannis shuffled off after waving a hardy goodbye to Jon Snow. Ser Davos stayed for a moment.

"Not too late to go back on your word, nobody here would judge ya. They'd welcome you with open arms"

"I wish I could."

Davos nodded.

"You're an honorable man Jon Snow…the Undying Lord Commander."

"Same to you, Ser Davos the Onion Knight."

They both shared a light chuckle and laugh, before Jon shuffled through the snow-covered ground of Winterfell to the two Red Priests who patiently awaited him. They walked for hours, south, but not on the King's Road. For that's where the dead roomed, no the small group of three men where head down the White Knife to White Harbor. Then they would take a boat to the Vale, and hopefully meet up the Brotherhood without Banners. The Red Priests were doing this because they hoped to rally more to their cause, there still a lot of people in the Vale. Many of whom were still faithful to the Seven. Though rarely talked about this, Paelis was still ranting about the Northmen and Lord Stannis.

"Ungrateful fool, he denies the power of the Lord of Light. All of those Northern idiots…no offense Snow…they still cling to their Tree Gods, what good did they ever do?"

Jon rolled his eyes, not wanting to get himself involved in this conversation. He occupied himself by staring at the White Knife, Jon had never seen it Frozen over before. It looked beautiful in a calming sort of way. The snow-covered ice sheet screeched on for miles. But funny enough, Jon did not have to say anything to Paelis, in fact Brast corrected the man.

"Paelis, we can't force the Northmen to our Religion by calling them idiots and yelling at them for their beliefs. That'll only push them away, learn to tighten your lips and grow a thick skin."

Paelis sighed, and began to reflect on Brast's stern words. None of the men talk for a while, that is until they saw a traveler of all things off in the distance. He was cutting a hole into the ice, presumably to fish for his dinner. A horse stood next to him, like a statue. Something was right and Jon drew his sword Longclaw. But Brast, gestured to Jon to sheathe his blade.

"Put that thing away, don't you see his red cloak. He's one of us. A fellow Red Priest, probably a brother or a sister here to assist us."

Jon reluctantly sheathed his blade, and approached cautiously unlike the other two Red Priests who seemed in higher spirits approached with joyful smiles. The other Red Priest did not seem to notice the traveling group of three men. There was an uneasy feeling in the back of Jon's neck. He hung a little further back from the two Red Priests, and focused his eyes on the horse of all things. It just stood unmoving, similarly to the other Red Priest. Eventually, Brast was in earshot of the Red Priest. He gave a hardy as he put a hand on the Priest shoulder.

"Has the Lord of Light been good to thee, fellow servant of R'llhor?"

The other Red Priest turned, to face Brast, who gasped at the sight of the man's face. Half it had fallen off, and the other claimed by the cold. He was one of the wights, a resurrected corpse made to fight. But that's not what scarred Jon and the two Priests, what terrified them, was when the undead Red Priest, talking in a chilling frozen voice.

" _You're speaking of the wrong God."_

The undead Red Priest, then hugged Brast and began to whisper into his ear. Through whatever dark magic, that resurrected this Red Priest it appeared to also grant him so power. For when the undead Priest grasped Brast, he began to freeze over, becoming a frozen corpse within seconds. He whispered.

" _The Dark welcomes all, come join the Other Gods…" _

With that Brast had died, no more than a frozen corpse who collapsed into several shards the moment he hit the ground. Paelis shakily drew his Dragonglass sword, as Jon drew Longclaw. With a short muttering in a forgotten tongue, the undead Red Priest began to chant and as he chanted a small group of Wights began to rise from the snow-covered ground. They carried old rusted swords and axes. Ten in total, these Wights were done to the bone, Jon could barely understand how they were still standing. But Jon had no time to question this as one of the undead warriors marched forward and sliced at Jon Snow with its short sword. Jon parried and torn the arm off the skeletal warrior, the undead screaming an icy yell. Then Jon cut the Wight in half with his Valyrian Steel Sword. This attracted the attention of two more Wights, both with battle axes and light shambled armor.

"I'm hope in I'm not out of practice."

Jon muttered to himself as one of the Wight's charged forward swinging the axe from side to side. While the other Wight ran up to Jon, dragging the axe in the snow. With lightning reflexes, Jon parried the skeletal warriors, with his sword. The axe heads quickly coming into contact with his steel blade. Jon continued to do this until, the rusted axe heads actually shattered into pieces. Then Jon slashed at both the Wights with his Valyrian steel sword, cutting them in two. Both of them fell to the ground. Jon wheezed as two more approached, again with carrying axes. For a moment, Jon caught a glimpse of Paelis, who seemed to be at least a competent sword fighter. Two Wights were dead by his hand. Whilst he sloppily parried the other two circling him, Jon then focused on himself. One of the Wights actually managed to cut him along his left arm with a long sword, whilst the other nearly took off his leg with an axe. Jon managed to chop off their legs with one swop and a good parry. Once they were dispatched, Jon noticed Paelis had also managed to defeat the three remaining Wights. He looked happy for a moment, but then the Undead Priest, who had come out of nowhere jumped him.

" _Come to me poor child…" _

He embraced a screaming Paelis, who tried to force him off. Most of his body became frozen within seconds, but with his last moments of terror. Paelis did manage to slice into the Red Priests left arm, causing the Undead Priest to scream in pain himself. His arm was burning, and it lit up for a short moment before fading away along with the Undead Priest's arm. Jon raised Longclaw in a dueling stance and lunged forward as the Undead Priest began to collect himself.

" _I will cleanse the Light's curse…"_

Jon stopped his charge, when a magic ball of pure ice began to form in the Undead Priests hand. It locked painful by the looks of it, and bits of the Red Priest remaining flesh began to fall off once he tossed it. Jon dodged it with ease, and looked back to see the ball burst into icy energy, then he leaped forward and stabbed the Undead Priest through the heart and then with the flick of the wrist pulled out and chopped him in two. To Jon's surprise, the Undead Priest still lingered on, he muttered his last words before the former Lord Commander cut off his head.

" _The Other Gods will take you soon enough…" _

With that Jon stabbed the Undead Priest through the skull, and crushed it to bits. Then he sheathed Longclaw and looked over the damage. Both Paelis and Brast lay dead, to shattered to come back. There limbs fell apart when the Undead Priest jumped them. Jon was not sure what to do with the corpses of the two Red Priest, he knew they would have preferred to have been burned and cremated. But Jon had no access to fire, so he ended up just chopping their heads off and burying them shallowly in the snow. It was shame really, a part of him was starting to enjoy their company. He did not bother giving any sort of prayer, for Jon did not know any of the words the Red Priests spoke of. So what he did was he dug them a hole as deep as he could with his bare hands, they became numb after a while from the cold and digging. Then he plopped them into their respective graves and used there Dragonglass Swords as tombstones. He tilted his head, trying to show respect. Before wandering off, still heading south. His mission, head to the Vale, see if anyone was willing to follow him to face off against the White Walkers.

Jon starred into the small insignificant fire he had made. He watched the tiny embers dance all around. The fire, it was captivating, and he was able to take his mind off of the things that had just occurred not moments ago. Fire always fascinated Jon, the way it danced and ebbed and flowed in its ritualistic manner. It was quite soothing in fact.

" _You ought to shave more Jon, I thought you always cared so much about your hair."_

Jon turned to see Robb Stark, his brother, sitting next to him. He was still covered in his own blood, but head was still on his head so that was an improvement. The former Lord Commander, began to breathe unevenly, Jon figured he must be hallucinating. So, he tried to keep himself calm, and ignore Robb, hoping his brother would fade away. What made it worse was that Robb Stark, or maybe his spirit, started talking again.

" _Jon don't ignore me, I don't like to be ignored…hear me out. That thing you just killed could be the least of your worries."_

Jon grabbed a nearby stick and began to poke the fire, acting like Robb was not there.

" _You really are an idiot, you could have let go at any moment, between here and Winterfell. Those Red Priests are dead, you're not upheld to anyone, not this Red God, or the Night's Watch… you could end it now nobody would know…"_

With a heavy heart, Jon continued to ignore the spirit of Robb. The cold and the dark where probably just getting to Jon. Robb was dead, he died at the Red Wedding years ago.

" _Jon, this world is dead, nobody would judge you if you just let go."_

Without hesitation, Jon turned his back on Robb. Into the night Jon Snow went, marching forward and never looking back his brother. But his brother did manage to say one last thing, before either he faded or Jon was out of earshot.

" _I'm only try to help you…the things out there, no one should have to face. Let go of this world Jon, it'll do you more good."_

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **I would just like to say, we passed a thousand views, thanks guys you're awesome. I'm looking for beta readers if anyone wants to do that. But yeah, who know writing a fanfiction could actually be enjoyable and I'm getting reasonable criticism on the internet, that never happens. Also, I would like to thank four reviewers again.**

 **LungTienXiang- Yes Stannis is the Mannis. But yeah, I'll get to R+L=J eventually, but first. Lore fodder, I'm just gonna dump more lore and character development then Bloodborne. Except there's no disturbing horrors…oh wait the Drowned God and Many-Faced God are inspired by Lovecraft, even better now I can add in Eldtrich Horrors or something else equally horrifying, like Peter Dinklage in the movie Pixels with Adam Sandler…no that's stupid…I'm just gonna do stuff and things that I want to do and see what happens.**

 **Lurker- Well yeah, but no more than the T.V. Show…I'll just be in the corner now, that's not an excuse, I'll try to be better.**

 **Guest #1: I'm sorry I lost ya, I just thought Jon would want to rejoin something familiar, in this dystopian frozen waste. People tend to cling to familiarity in difficult situations, that bit of familiarity is the Night's Watch for Jon, it's a big part of his character. But I understand if I lost ya, and gosh I'm sorry, I'll try better in the future.**

 **Guest #2: Somebody Gets It Holy Crap, I don't expect someone to get the Greatcoats reference. But yeah, Greatcoats, is a pretty good series, can't hold a candle to GOT or LOTR but I always liked it has a lot of charm in it. I recommend it, but be warned, Deus Ex Machina's are abound with the Greatcoats.**


	5. Chapter 5

The Late Promised Prince

Chapter 5

Jon did not know where he was at this moment, his sense of direction was never the keenest to begin with. But imagine trying to find your bearings when the sun is black out by thick cloud cover and you've barely been some of Winterfell your whole life. Jon knew that the North was vast, but it was mine bogglingly expansive. Thankfully Robb was not bothering him anymore, that only make this journey even more dreadful. Jon continued to trek alongside the White Knife, but make it a habit to stay away from sight. Just in case a horde of undead where to descend upon him. Though occasionally Jon would have to dispatch the stray undead or two. But on occasion, it left Jon a speechless. A battlefield with little to no corpses still in the snow, military equipment had been left there. It was a massacre, between the living and the dead. Only the dead seemed to be favored in all matches. Off in the distance, he saw what appeared to be poles or pyres with corpses tied to them. He approached an undead Wight, tied to large pyre, that was not properly lit. This corpse talked, or more muttered to itself when it saw Jon. His discarded closes appeared to be that of a Septon. At first Jon was weary and raised his blade. When Jon was in earshot, the half-burned corpse looked at him in awe.

"…Many of us are by the Light Forsake and Abandoned…you were for a time, weren't you? I speak of your kind and mine…"

Jon looked around, still convinced this was a trick or an ambush of some kind.

"If you're asking if I was dead, then yes…I was…"

The undead Wight raised its head to look at Jon.

"Fear not this little begotten Wight, Jon Snow…and embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

"How do you know my name?"

With that Wight's corpse fell apart then, leaving Jon Snow confused and on edge. He went on at a brisk pass, but eventually came across another priest of sorts, this one of the Red God. Again, the figure was tied to a mast or pole, and again it looked like someone forgot to burn the pyre he was on. This one spoke to Jon like it was reciting an old sermon that he never heard.

"The Knight was ever faithful to his Queen. Yet all his service ever brought him was misery. He gave so much, only to be rejected time and time again. Then the Lord gave him fire to save this world. Yet all he did and continues to do, is protect the Queen who spurred him. Embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

"I don't understand."

Jon did know what to make of the preacher's statements, but before he could follow up, the Wight went limp. He was clearly missing most of the information about who the Knight and Queen in this story where. So, he marched onward, approaching another bound Septon.

"He the Kindest Prince to grace the Kingdom, she the Sweetest Lady in all the Garden. The faith separated them, and tore many a lord apart. Then the Lioness pounced on her prey, destroying all that threated her Prince. For her sake and his, she killed all those in her path. Even the Sweetest Lady, and without his Lady the Prince longed to join her. Embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

"What does this have to do with me?"

Again the Wight Priest went limp. Jon continued to listen to these undead religious figures, they were trying to tell him something, he just did not know what. The next corpse Jon came across was the weirdest, it had two faces one of an old man from Essos the other a young man from the North it looked like. He spoke in two intertwined voices.

"She came across the Narrow Sea, to learn the ways of Death. A girl lost her name, her face and herself. Or so she tells herself. But in these strange Aeons, even Death with all his faces may die...Embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

Again, Jon was lacking context to decipher any of these. Jon came across another Priest, this one wore blue robes and looked more dreary then the rest. Jon approached.

"They live in fear, all of them, of the things in darkness. They live in fear that Dark Produces there horrors and Other such monstrosities. Afraid of the dark that will kill them and swallow them whole, yet the Dark would never produce such a creature...Embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

Jon was beginning to realize that none of these corpses where going to start making any sense. But really, what did he expect. Though there was only more priest, that was on the beaten path ahead. This priest was tied upside down, and spoke slightly softer then the offers.

"The Stag had Bastards, yet they were truer than any of his highborn. The Snake had several illborn daughters, he brought into his care and treated them as he would any other. Whilst the lowly Wolf mated with the heavenly Dragon, instead of a Stag. What is a Bastard but a title to limit the power who play there games? Embrace the cold, gentle darkness."

Jon could at least relate to the last Priests' comment. For he had nothing growing up, even living with a house as Great as the Starks, Jon was giving as much as his brothers and sisters. He lived with nothing, and died with nothing. Now he was again, with nothing. But Jon marched forward, still trying to figure out some of the riddles and sermons the Wights had given him. He marched onward for a few hours more before deciding to set up camp. His growled, he looked at his rations. Mealworms and grain, he at them hastily nearly choking on the foul taste of the mealworms. He lit a small fire the best he could, then knelt beside it for warmth. In the distance, came an unusual figure. Jon drew his sword, hastily. For the Night was Dark and full of terrors. He stopped up and readied his blade.

"Put that sword away boy, if I was gonna kill you I would have done it from a distance."

A voice said with a thick unfamiliar accent. Jon still held up his blade, Longclaw, unwilling to sheath his blade. Who would take a chance out here, especially after that undead Red Priest. Even as the figure held his hands up to show he meant no harm, Jon raised his blade high. As this figure approached Jon's insignificant fire, he could see this man was tall. Very tall, nearly seven feet tall, covered in leathery armor from head to two. He wore a large bearskin cloak, but the strangest things about this man where his face and gauntlets. His gauntlets, shimmered and looked as if they were made of pure silver, whilst his face had features and characteristics Jon had never seen before.

"Who are you? How do I know I can trust you?"

The tall man then reached into his pockets and pulled out part of a rabbit. Jon gave the man a questionable look.

"Here, it's a peace othering I caught it an hour ago."

Jon reached for the rabbit, not keeping his eyes off of the tall man. He took the rabbit and placed it by the fire. Then he sheathed Longclaw, to which the tall man offered a hand to shake.

"Nauda, of the Silver Hands."

"Jon Snow…of the Night's Watch."

Jon said returning the handshake Nauda had offered. Nauda chuckled a bit, before looking longingly at the small fire, pointed to it and asked.

"Mind if I sit here, by your fire, Jon Snow of the Night's Watch?"

Jon nodded, as the tall man lumped down in the snow. Nauda waited for Jon to reluctantly sit next to him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Nauda warmed himself by the blaze of the flames. While Jon looked over the tall man, he noticed all of the pockets, and arrow quivers he had. On his back know was the largest bow Jon had ever scene. It must have been six feet tall and as beautiful as a Valyrian steel sword. Nauda after getting comfortable then smiled at Jon, he retrieved his massive bow and handed it to him.

"Tempest, I crafted it myself, took me years to do so and cost me pretty penny."

"It's beautiful I must say…"

"Says the man carrying a Valyrian steel sword."

They both had a chuckle at that, before Jon handed Nauda back his bow. Jon then asked.

"So you are a hunter of sorts?"

"Of sorts, I only hunt when the company is stalled."

Jon raised an eyebrow at Nauda's statement.

"The company?"

"I'm a sell-sword, the leader of a small company, the Silver Hands…you can probably tell where the name came from."

Nauda said gesturing to his silver gauntlets, Jon nodded understanding the reasoning.

"So why do they call you Jon Snow of the Night's Watch?"

Jon sighed, he no longer made I contact with Nauda. He thought it over, then laughed a little. Thinking back to his brothers in the Night's Watch. Then the betrayal, the disdain and the hatred snuck back into his mind.

"The Night's Watch is all that I have left…we protected the realm of men…bastards, rapists, murders and thieves sent to the Wall to protect mankind from things I could not even begin to describe."

Nauda nodded, before saying to Jon.

"They're still out there…what's left of them anyway."

The former Lord Commanders ears perked up, he gave Nauda his undivided attention. Jon then asked.

"They're in the Vale, right? Alongside the Brotherhood without Banners."

"Yes, but be warned…the Vale is ruled by the Lord Baelish, he doesn't take kindly to strangers these days. He can't pay e'm off as well."

Nauda said with a chuckle before pointing to himself, and grinning at Jon Snow an uneven hideous smile.

"I should know, he hired me some five years ago for protection…poor fool's nearly out of food and silver for that matter. Can't wait to see how the people react to that. But it doesn't matter, _in the End the Silver Hands always get Their Share_."

Jon did not say anything, for he did not seem care about the plights of this Lord Baelish. Though the bastard of the Night's Watch did ask.

"Then why did you work for him? If he's almost out of food and wealth?"

Nauda leaned inward and his voice became hushed like a whisper.

"Can't stand the Lion Queen with those _Golden Cunts_ in tow, or the Dragon Whore with her Dothraki degenerates…Lord Baelish gave me the opportunity to oppose both, for good silver…plus the hunting in Westeros was always better than in Essos."

Jon took a moment to process all that the information that Nauda had laid before him. He assumed that the Lion Queen was a Lannister of sorts who Jon Snow did not know. What Nauda meant by the _Golden Cunts_ , Jon could only guess at. The other person Nauda was referring to was Daenerys Targaryen with her Dothraki in tow. Jon knew little outside of basic knowledge about the Dothraki, but they were generally described as raiders and horsemen often hated by those he hated. The fact that they were aligned with Daenerys Targaryen is probably not good news for anyone. But there are worse things than a Dothraki horde in this world. Nauda then pulled out one of his arrows from a quiver strapped to his side.

"You see in Essos, the game to hunt gets boring real quick. But here, I've never had so much fun hunting wolves before…"

At that, Jon Snow hesitated but then asked.

"Wolves?"

"Yeah, big ones, some of my boys says there's a Direwolf leading a pack of hundreds of wolves through here."

Jon's eyes grew wide, but he kept his composure.

"Really, a Dire-wolf all the way down south?"

"It's I've seen it, she's in great condition that bitch. Big as a pony, with a grander appetite. I'm kill it, wear its skin, eat its flesh and add it to the collection."

Nauda seemed to get more cheerful the more he talked about killing his prey. Jon only got antsy, he was afraid to ask about the Dire-wolf, for there have only been six known dire-wolfs to live south of the wall, or the shattered wall as it is called now.

"Where'd it come from though?"

Nauda relaxed a bit more by the fire and chuckle again, before telling Jon his story.

"There's a story ya see, my boys learned it from the locals, a Lord named Eddard Stark brought his daughters south to serve the fat King Robert. His daughters both had dire-wolves, Gods only know how they found the blooming things, or why they would raise the beasts as pets…but away his first daughter was a kind noble lady, fine dresses and all that shite, while the second was a dirty mud rat."

Jon tense up at that insult, Nauda was unknowingly referring to his Father, and his sisters, Sansa and Arya. Jon loved Arya, and he despite her flaws Jon would have done anything for her. To hear a stranger, belittle his sister made him angry. Nauda did not seem to notice, it appeared all time spent hunting did not hone his skills with communication and or make him much a people person. He went on.

"Now the mud rat's wolf was a fierce little pup, nearly killed the crowned Prince, I've wouldn't have minded though, that little ill-born probably would have been better dead sooner than later. But you see the wolf escaped into the woods, hunting growing fierce and strong until it came to lead it's pack, a tale worthy of a beast. A beast worth hunting."

Jon nodded, Nauda made it seem noble. Though Jon wished Arya's Dire-wolf Nymeria, would continue to live a full life with its pack. It was then Jon thought back to his Dire-wolf Ghost, he made seen or heard a peep from his Dire-wolf since he woke up. Maybe it is a bit naïve to assume any creature man or otherwise would stay loyal next to a dead man for five years. Jon also hoped Ghost was alright, hunting prey in some remote corner of Westeros. Nauda then pointed at Jon and asked.

"So Jon Snow of the Night's Watch, where are you heading?"

"The Vale…I hope to join up with the Brotherhood without Banners."

Nauda rolled his eyes.

"You don't know what you're getting into, day and night they preach. _Oh the Lord of Light is coming,_ it gets annoying after a while. No wonder half of them up and joined those White Walkers."

Jon's eyes wide at that revelation, he thought back to the Undead Red Priest and burying Brast and Paelis.

"What? While would the Red Priests Join the White Walkers…or did they just die…"

"Kinda of both, some of them died and the White Walkers took e'm in as part of their own. The other half up and joined them willing, worshiping them as Gods…Some Gods, but faith is delicate bitch, she can be broken with ease."

Nauda then stood up and brushed off some of the snow and ice that covered his boots. Jon starred up at the tall man.

"Well, Jon Snow of the Night Watch, I have hunting to return to. You enjoy your quest, keep heading south towards White Harbor, tell e'm I spoke with they'll treat you like royalty…though then again, is that really good a thing now in this Long Night…?"

Nauda then waved his goodbyes to Jon Snow before walking off into the distance. Leaving Jon pleased to have new information and confirmation that in fact he was heading in the right direction. Then Jon starred at the now cocked rabbit bits, he then began to eat them. It was the best meal Jon had since the moose back at Winterfell. Jon spent a few more minutes by the fireside before getting up and continuing his journey south. He waded through the snow and ice as best he could, thankful that a blizzard had hindered his progress.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **A bit of a more somber chapter, but again I like Lore Fodder. I'll be getting back into the action if you preferred that in the next chapter. But thank you guys for the views, we passed 2000 over the last few days. Pretty good, I ain't complaining. Also as per usual I will be responding to the feedback I got, check out the reviews for context.**

 **LeeMarx: Well he Jon Snow, and doesn't really think things through. Don't you know the Jon Snow mortality rate is nearly as bad as the Morty mortality rate, and that's without Rick.**

 **Marvelmyra: He's Stannis though, part of his literally means Stone. So, in kind of a Greek Mythology Naming sense he's stubborn like a stone, and it takes a lot to get him to change his mind if at all. Also I fixed the spelling errors…most of them…also Jon Snow went through a lot of crap in the Night's Watch, he had the opportunity to leave at several points throughout both the books and in the show. Honestly I was actually surprised when he left in the T.V. Show, but then again he do it with his Aunt Daenerys because 'plot'.**

 **(Updated) Guest #3: I never understand the OOC argument to be honest, I mean isn't the purpose of fanfiction to make characters do stuff they wouldn't normally do. Hell, on this sight alone I've seen characters having sex who have nothing in common and or are related, is that not out of character? But again that might just be a straw man argument, I'm sorry you feel that way, and I'll try to get better. But really this is just for fun, if you're looking for an well written well structured glorious piece of Fanfiction, you probably won't find if me, I'm just a first timer at this that's no excuse but also I don't spend the most time on this for correcting and stuff. Honestly I just do this to the creative juices flowing.**

 **Again Thank you all so much.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jon Snow continued his trek south, originally, he moved at a brisk pace but the snow and winds that were common place in these times decided to show themselves. For the longest time, Jon Snow had been able to deal with the bitter cold. He was a Northerner after all, and what kind of Northerner could not handle the cold. Jon Snow had also spent the latter half of his time at the Wall, the coldest part of Westeros. But here, it felt like the driving snow was a living breathing entity. A entity that wanted to bury him under its combined weight. The wind was even worse, with the force of a strongest gale storms winds. Still Jon fought his way through the storm, holding a gloved hand in front of his face trying to still see through the great winds and bitter snow. As Jon kept going forward, he saw something in the distance. A ruined lonely house, long since abandoned in disrepair. Jon smiled vaguely, before walking over to the house. He walked inside to find not a soul in sight. Dust and snow littered the ground, not a single valuable in sight. Old furniture and shelves were overturned for whatever reason. Though there was something that did make Jon Snow pleased with the house. A bed, a torn bed, but a bed nonetheless. It felt like an eternity since Jon Snow had slept on a bed. He did not even care that it was cold, it just nice to have a little slice of normalcy. So Jon drifted off to sleep soon after.

* * *

 _Jon dreamed of fire, a real fire. A large steaming fire, not the flickering flames he been able to make on short notice during his travels. This fire was a big large fire, you could get lost in its flickering. You do not know how much you miss the sweet warmth of fire, until the world is the worst winter ever seen in thousands of years. It was then, Jon saw something in the fire. He could not seem to make out what it was. A bright glistening thing that burned brighter than the fire upon closer inspection. Something was telling Jon to reach for it, even though it would be foolish to touch any such flame. Still Jon reached for it, his hands fire but still he tried to grab it. His hands and flesh where writhing in agony, but then he grabbed the object. He pulled out the most beautiful blade he had ever seen. But then the fire faded, and Jon was left in darkness._

* * *

Jon did wake with a jolt, but rather confusion. He got up from the bed and looked at his hands, they charred or anything. Though funnily enough there was a sort of phantom pain. That beautiful sword Jon pulled from the fire was still in Jon's head. His imagination must have been working hard to create a sword that gorgeous. Jon looked at Longclaw, it was beautiful in its own right and well, actually really. Looking outside, the former Lord Commander saw that the storm had ended. Another foot of snow had piled up, not that Jon Snow could do anything about it. So, Jon reclaimed his belongings and set out on his journey again. He walked a few miles until came across a small riverside settlement. About halfway through the town, Jon heard a cry.

"Help! Help!"

The former Lord Commander, drew his bastard sword and began to run over to the sounds of distress. He dove around a corner, to find a group of six Wights, taunting a young knight who stood atop a Sept Tower. The boy had sealed the doors to the Sept, to make sure the Wights could not get him. The Knight caught a glimpse of Jon Snow, he waved in desperation.

"You there! Help me, I'm trapped surrounded by these Wights."

Jon Snow, silently walked forward, as Wights continued to wait for the young Knight. Almost as if they expected him to fall off the tower and plummet to his death. Without hesitation, Jon Snow drew his blade and sliced a Wight through the neck, instantly decapitating it. When the Wights began to notice Jon Snow, plowing through there minimal ranks, they began to jump and slice at him. Though to be honest, they Wights, were unorderly. Barely a threat if you knew how to deal with them. Jon hacked and slashed, until the six Wights lay in chucks and pieces in the snow. The young Knight looked down in amazement, before saying. Jon Sheathed his blade, but looked around cautiously for anymore Wights.

"That was impressive, thank you for your assistance, hang on don't move…"

The Young Knight then rushed out of the Sept Tower and stumbled on an effort to thank Jon Snow. Jon raised an eyebrow, at the odd-looking knight in loss fitting armor. Though the armor was also mismatched, Lannister armor with the helm of the Tyrells and two different gauntlets from minor houses. The young Knight in his mid-teens stood about a foot smaller then Jon, he shocks Jon's hand vigorously.

"Thank you again, now I can continue my journey."

"Don't mention it…"

The young Knight jittered a bit, observing the bastard like a rare specimen. When eventually the young Knight said to Jon.

"I'm sorry, it's been so long since I've seen another person, say where are you going Ser-

"I'm not a Ser, I'm a Bastard, Jon Snow. I'm heading to the Vale."

Jon said bluntly, causing the young knight to be taken aback a bit.

"Oh…well, I'm heading to the Vale as well…would you mind if I joined you?"

The former Lord Commander, looked over the Knight with slight disdain. This young knight looked like he would bring more harm than good. But Jon could not just leave the boy here. Upon further inspection, Jon could see the boy only had a broken long sword to defend himself with. So Jon merely gestured for him to follow along, to which the young Knight excitedly did. As they walked out of the small settlement, Jon asked.

"So…who are you? Where do you hail from?"

"Oh…me?"

The young knight grew timid, but quickly answered.

"I'm…Kevan Rivers, of the Westerlands. A Bastard as well, I suppose."

The way Kevan said the word Bastard was uneasy and almost in shame. Jon's eyes grew a tad bit softer. But then when he processed that this boy was from the Westerlands, Jon's resentment shined through. Jon walked at a fast pace, as to make sure Kevan would struggle to catch up.

"So, where you a puppet to the Lannister's? During the War of the Five Kings?"

Kevan was taken aback by the comment, as he tried to catch up to Jon.

"I never took part in that War, I was nine…I could barely talk, let alone fight. Did…Did you lose someone in that War…I…I understand."

Jon stopped walking at his brisk pace, and allowed Kevan to catch up. With intensity in his eyes, he let his anger out on Kevan.

"I lost a Father, three brothers, and a sister in that war. Don't act like you can understand that pain…"

Kevan stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, as Jon continued forward. Jon did not want to deal with Lannister forces, even though the War of the Five Kings was a distant memory at this point. To Jon, those wounds were not old enough yet. He was beginning to regret saving the young Knight. Kevan then said.

"Hate me if you must, but know that I'm sorry Jon Snow…for the loss of your family…"

Jon to slowed his pass again and allowed Kevan to catch up. Even though Kevan wore his helm, and Jon could not see his face, he could tell the young knight was hurting. The two walked for a few hours before stopping again by the riverside. Jon started a small fire, as Kevan gathered some kindling. There was awkward silence between the two, but eventually Jon sighed and asked Kevan.

"So…what are you doing this far North? Wouldn't it be better if you stayed in the Westerlands?"

"I…I would have, but I wanted to Join the Night's Watch…were even a bastard could find glory, or at least that's what they used to say…but when I arrived in Burrowton apparently the Wall had come down and the dead were rising…I thought it was joke at first, but now look where we are."

Kevan said laughing nervously at the end. Jon only glared at the knight sternly. But then Jon said.

"Believe it or not, I used to be Lord Commander of the Night's Watch…"

"Really? That's incredible, what was like, before the Wall came down."

Kevan asked fully engrossed in what Jon had to say. Though the former Lord Commander, with his stern blank expression said.

"Far too cold, hostile and indifferent to anyone's existence."

"Oh…I see…well Lord Commander Snow-

"I'm not the Lord Commander anymore…I died, and was brought back to life. The Night's Watch left me five years ago, I only seek them for some purpose in this world."

Kevan then paused for a moment.

"You…you died? And then were brought back to life. How in the name of the Seven did you manage that?"

Jon rolled his eyes, and began to explain how the Red Priests brought him back to life on a venture North back to Shattered Wall and Castle Black. He told Kevan about his journey, how he met up with Sansa Stark and Stannis Baratheon back in Winterfell. How the two Red Priests, died fighting an undead Priest with his Wights. Kevan was the edge of his seat, enthralled with the story. By the end of it, Kevan said.

"That's an amazing tale Lord Commander Snow…"

"Please stop calling me that, call me Jon, you got it Kevan?"

Kevan nodded hastily, before saying.

"Forgive me, I've always tried to be respectful. My Uncle taught me to the respect the Lord and Ladies, and the Gods above all else."

"That's not the worst thing in the world…"

Jon said, beginning to warm up to the young knight from the Westerlands. Kevan then asked one last thing.

"One more thing, then I'll stop…Jon…what was it like…dying?"

That question caught Jon Snow off guard. His composure broke ever so slightly, then he thought about it for a moment. He did not remember much, but still tried to describe it.

"Well…it was…like sleeping without dreaming, it was…I don't know, I could not feel it. There was…nothing…I don't recall anything of note if I'm being honest."

Jon said quietly, Kevan seemed to take that pretty hard.

"Did you…see the Stranger…did he guide you, to the Heavens?"

Kevan asked in desperation, Jon gave a solemn look at the faithful young man.

"Didn't see anything, not the Old Gods or the New…I'm sorry if that upsets you."

The young knight, bowed his helm covered head in sadness. Before Jon could say anything, young Kevan started to laugh.

"I guess is stupid to believe in the Gods, any of them. The world is to cruel for beings like them isn't it…"

Jon then sighed, he was never the most faithful person to the Old Gods. He did not know to say to reassure a man of faithful man to his religious beliefs. Kevan then said.

"Sorry…I don't to burden you…it's that…the faith played a large role in my life…and I've seen to many good people die, and I hoped there would be place where could see them again…all of them…pardon me a moment."

Kevan balled his fists, in rage. Before standing up, and walking away toward the ice-covered edge of the stream. Jon watched the young knight from the Westerlands. He thought about how people where just like him throughout what remained of the Seven Kingdoms. Clinging to hope, when there was hardly any. Praying to Gods they barely believed in anymore. Without direction in this cold wasteland. Jon could relate, for he was partially there, almost as Forlorn as the young knight Kevan. Kevan knelt down in the ice, and began to pray in desperation. Jon could not hear most of it, bet in all honesty, for felt more like the most hopeless pleading he heard. Sprinkled in with hopes to see people close to him again. Jon shock his head, trying to ignore the young Knight's pleas. But then an unwanted voice came was heard across from Jon.

" _You should kill him Jon, he'll thank you for it."_

Robb's apparition sat next to the fire, smiling at Jon. Still as bloody as ever. Jon shock his head and muttered.

"Robb go away…he's just a kid."

" _We were kids when we lost our father. Our Father was a boy when he lost his father to the Targaryen's. Let him join us Jon."_

Robb said casually pointing to Jon's bastard sword and making a slitting motion with his hand. Jon shock his head and muttered.

"Go away…go away…"

" _I hold nothing against him if you're curious, it's not like he would kill a man on his wedding night. No, but he is without hope, it's probably best to just end it for him."_

Robb said before fading away, as Kevan approached again the boy carried himself, but barely.

"I'm sorry, I just needed a moment. Forgive me…Jon."

"…It's fine…"

Jon said relieved that the spirit of his brother had vanished, the former Lord Commander looked at the young knight and said.

"Get some sleep, I'll keep watch."

Kevan nodded before, laying down in a patch of snow. Jon drew his sword from its sheath and kept watch over their surroundings. The bastard of the north was used to long nights with little sleep, especially when he made his trek beyond the Wall with his fellow Night's Watchmen. Jon kept himself up for a couple more hours before he two drifted to sleep. When he awoke, Kevan was maintaining the fire with a few discarded sticks. The two stayed by the fire for a while, before packing their things and heading south. They walked again for a couple of hours, avoiding the dead. Eventually Jon and Kevan could feel the slimy sea air emanating a few miles away. Jon said.

"We're close, we should be nearing White Harbor soon."

"Good to hear…wait a minute…do see that, straight ahead."

Kevan said pointing and oversized armored figure to five shapes on the horizon line. Jon narrowed his eyes, to see the five shapes where horse riders. Without hesitation, he drew his sword Longclaw and gestured for Kevan to raise his broken blade. For the good it would do them. But as they approached, Jon could see that they were not undead, but they were Knights of a sort. In these times, Jon was not sure how anyone would react, so he kept his guard up. The five horsemen circled Jon and Kevan. Before stopping and one of them disembarking from there horse and revealing his face by lifting his helm. He was tall and very muscled, he has blue eyes and thick, black hair with a shaggy beard. This armor knight looked almost shocked to see living people this far north.

"Well, this is a shock, we never seen that many people this far north…so who might you two be?"

Jon did the talking.

"I'm Jon Snow, son of Lord Eddard Stark, I was once a Commander for the Night's Watch."

Many of the Knights nodded looking rather impressed with Jon Snow. Kevan's head tilted in Jon's general direction in surprise. Jon seemed to have left out whose bastard he was in his story to Kevan. It appeared the Stark name still carried some weight in these times. The lead Knight chuckled a bit, before shaking one of Jon's hands.

"Well this is a surprise, a bastard meeting a bastard. The name Gendry Waters, son of Robert Baratheon."

Jon nodded, thinking back to the fat King Robert. To be honest, Jon was not particularly surprised that Robert Baratheon of all people was having bastards. Gendry did not seem to mind very much.

"You know, Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon were well acquainted, I hope to get to know you just as well Jon Snow."

The bastard of Robert Baratheon said patting on the shoulder a couple of times. Then his smile faded when he looked over at Kevan. Gendry's brow furrowed.

"And who…might you be? You're not a loyalist, are you?"

Kevan was quick to defend himself as some of the Knights under Gendry's command drew their swords.

"No, I forsake the Lannister cause, I was heading North. Ask Jon, he'll vouch for me."

Gendry shifted his focus back to Jon Snow, he drew his maliciously crafted War Hammer. Another trait shared between Gendry and the late Stag King. Jon's grew cold as he gripped his sword.

"Kevan Rivers is with me, all things he says are true. If you kill him, you're going to have to kill me."

Gendry nodded, before putting away his war hammer. He then laughed off the tension along with his fellow men, before saying.

"Sorry Snow, can't be careful around these parts. Queen Cersei still thinks the real enemies live in castles. She was always slow on the draw…well I suppose you two would like safe passage to White Harbor?"

Jon nodded adding.

"We need safe passage to the Vale, as well."

Gendry smiled, before bowing and putting his helm back on.

"Well then, follow us Lord Snow, and I'd be happy to provide you safe passage. Us bastards must stick together obviously."

It appeared luck was finally starting to tip in Jon's favor for a change. Gendry and his company then began to lead Jon and Kevan to the south near White Harbor. Jon still gripped his Valyrian steel sword and eyed the men around him very cautiously.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Those three bastards, good God there's a lot of bastards in this series. In all seriousness, I just wanted to say I'm shocked nobody got the Nodens reference but okay moving on. I'm just gonna say this right now, five years have passed. If you complain about Gendry being out of character, people can change in five years and its fan fiction. I'll explain in the next chapter, because that's gonna have a lot of him, and Jon. Together on a ship, no not the typical ship your thinking off involving two characters- never mind. Also, again, thank you everyone for the followers, reviews and such.**

 **Biohazard: Thank you, I'll update soon…hey wait a minute.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Jon had never been on a boat his entire life. It was an unfamiliar feeling really, as the ship swayed nasally from side to side. Though he tried not to complain. The promise of heading south theoretically meant that it would be slightly warmer then the North. They departed abruptly from the deserted town of White Harbor. It was said that White Harbor was one of the more prosperous cities in the North, filled with life and trade. Now it lay in ruins, discarded and desecrated. The former Lord Commander, sat in a seat below deck by the window. For miles it was the endless crashing of the sea against the ice. Eventually Gendry Waters, the leader of a small envoy came down with some bottled rum and a few mealworms.

"Don't look so glum Snow, come now, we have a toast to make." Gendry said cheerfully as he poured Jon a mug of rum. Jon took it not wanting to offend the Baratheon bastard. He raised the glass and said.

"To your survival, your health and the Friendship of our Fathers." Jon raised his glass in response, and they both clanked their bottles. They both took a swig, before savoring the taste. Gendry smiled before saying.

"Ya know Jon…I wanted to join the Watch, it wasn't long after my father died…I worked at smithy you see, and Joffery the Incestuous Freak, wanted to purge the world of all Robert Baratheon's bastards. So, I fled North…never got to the wall though." Gendry said, reminiscing as if those were simpler days. Jon then said.

"I'm sorry to hear that…about Joffery and all that…I met a Baratheon recently…Stannis." Jon said, as Gendry's brow furrowed in fury.

"Oh…my so called Uncle…say did Noble Stannis Baratheon ever tell you about the time he nearly tried to kill me? So, I could have been sacrificed to his Great God?" Jon should have been shocked, by that but honestly the former Lord Commander was really. The Red Priests would do anything for there God. Jon simply raised his glass and said.

"They tried to get me convert to there religion under threat of stabbing me to death." Gendry laughed hardily at that, and clanked glasses with Jon.

"To the Red Priests, the kindest souls to ever live." They had a good laugh at that. Before taking another swig. Jon had to pace himself, since he was not used to drinking alcohol that much. Gendry on the other hand was like a booze hound. The former Lord Commander glanced out the window of the ship again and asked.

"So…how long until we reach the Vale." Gendry cursed to himself, before thinking about it.

"Eh…a few days, maybe a week if the weathers really bad." Jon nodded, before asking again.

"Forgive me but…why are were you in the North. Surely you'd be better served in the Vale." Gendry laughed again, he seemed to be a bit drunk.

"Lord Baelish, Littlefinger. Now you see he's always searching for people, he's losing more men then he can gain in the Vale. Or at least that's what he keeps saying…what's really happenings, is that he's got a thing for…your half-sister, Sansa." Jon's eyes widened at that realization, which caused Gendry to nod in agreement. The former Lord Commander said.

"What? How do you know this?"

"The old fool got mighty drunk about two years ago, around the time the Walkers claimed half his forces. He spilled all sorts of secrets, none to incriminating, but he told some of us of his desires…let me tell, the things he said he wanted to do to Lady Sansa…they weren't pretty." Jon's fists balled up, but Gendry took another swig and calmed him down.

"Easy Snow…Lord Baelish is the only thing keeping the Vale together, don't do anything to brash if you ever meet him." Again, Jon nodded before returning to sipping his alcohol.

"Aye…I'll be sure, treat Lord Baelish with…Respect."

Eventually after finishing their drinks. him and Gendry went above deck to see the small crew of the ship singing old songs from the Vale and North. Some of them listened to a story Kevan of all people was telling. He seemed to be making friends alright for westerling. Though he refused to take his armor. Jon eventually overheard his reasoning.

"If you lot saw my face, you'd think my neck vomited up my hideous western face."

This got a good laugh from the crew and those sworn to Gendry. Kevan then went back to his tale, it was about his wife and how she had ethereal beauty. Apparently, she was the most desired girl in all the kingdoms. He seemed to overstate parts of this story, but apparently the men of this boat where willing to listen to any story, no matter how good or shite. His story was cliché and trite for Jon's liking, though who was Jon to judge. The woman Kevan described it reminded him of Ygritte, the only woman who would ever have loved. He shook his head trying to take his mind off things and then simply went onto observe the sea and various icebergs that littered it. Kevan eventually joined him, ecstatically, he said.

"I never knew the men of the Vale where such good listeners." Jon shrugged.

"I won't know." Kevan nodded understandingly and then asked.

"So…umm…Jon, if it's not too much to ask, I was wondering if you could point me into the direction of the Night's Watch when we make landfall." Jon raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Don't tell me you want to join." Kevan nodded reluctantly.

"Yes…even a Bastard can find glory there can he not?" Jon thought about for a moment and shock his head. He sighed and said.

"It's a heavy price Kevan…are you willing to take it…?" Kevan nodded again.

"Yes…more than anything." Jon patted Kevan on the shoulder, and said.

"Well, we're gonna need to find you a whole sword in the meantime." Kevan chuckled nervously before running away cheering merrily. Jon smiled a bit, he remembered being enthusiastic to join the Watch, not that much of course. But there so much promise in the Watch. So much to gain, or once there once. The reality of course was that the Night's Watch had long been in disrepair. Broken, under supplied and undermanned. Jon tried to remember the good times at the Watch, how little there truly was. He thought of his brothers and mentors, a warm bubbled inside of him that quickly shattered when thoughts of his betrayers lurked into his mind. Jon continued to contemplate and reminisce on the Night' Watch as the endless cracking of the sea raged on.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hello Everybody, this update is kinda of late because guess whose computer had a defect and lost most of his data, including his fanfiction chapters, personal chapters and other such things. This guy…I'm crying on the inside as I type this. Anyway, thanks for reading and the comments have just been great. We've passed 4800 views always going up, don't forget to review and follow, I usually update quickly.**

 **Biohazard: Thank you again sir or madam**

 **LeMarx: I don't know, he's a bastard and can't trust those people. Just look at Jon Snow, Gendry Storm, Tyrion Lannister (His Dad considered him a Bastard) and 1/3 of the Incestuous Children between Cersei and Jaime… (Obviously Joffery)**

 **; Glad Ya Like it, hope to continue writing more of what ya like in the future**

 **Turt: The Fire Fades, Others wander the Plains of Existence, We Have to Wait Two Years for the Next Season of Game of Thrones. THERE IS NO HOPE, All is lost. Which is why you need to put your faith in Gwyn, Lord of Sunli- I mean R'hllor, Lord of Light…I just send you the flyer…**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Eventually after a few more days of rugged sailing, the Jon Snow and company arrived at Runestone. The old seat of the Bronze Kings was still stand tall if in disrepair. They had little time to waste as Runestone, like so many other towns and ports lay mostly abandoned, save for the dead who roamed the area. Most of the dead were like this, without a walker to guide those undead, they mostly just roamed aimlessly. Thankfully the dead did not hemorrhage the pathway to the Eyrie. Jon walked with Gendry in the front of twenty men group. Gendry seemed to be taking a liking to Jon in sort of a brotherly way.

"I'm telling ya Jon, the Walkers they strike when you least expect them to…keep your guard up." Gendry said as they continued through a frozen wood. Jon replied with.

"How many White Walkers do you think there are out there?" Gendry thought about for a moment.

"Ten…maybe Twenty. The White Walkers aren't the ones that really matter though, it's the horde of the dead. The Walkers are tough though…I've heard the stories, especially from your friends at the Watch." Jon nodded, before saying.

"Did the surviving members of the Watch, tell you or this Lord Baelish about their weakness to Dragonglass and Valyrian Steel?" Gendry nodded as he trudged through the snow.

"Aye, but truth be told, it's not like it made that much of a difference. Dragonstone is hard to come by and Valyrian Steel doesn't grow on trees ya know." Jon nodded holding Longclaw tightly, thankful for his sword given to him by the Lord Commander before him.

"So what's the plan?" Jon asked and Gendry raised an eyebrow, stopping in his tracks turning to the former Lord Commander and said.

"What plan?" Gendry asked as the company of men from the Vale and elsewhere stopped to listen in on Jon's question. Jon looked around and said.

"You know, the plan to defeat the White Walkers." Gendry had a good chuckle and said.

"There is no plan, they've won, we've lost. Best thing to do is hold out and hope for the best. The Eyries a wonderful place Jon, if it weren't for Lord Baelish I'd hardly want to leave as often as I do." Jon looked astonished at the faces of forlorn men staring back at him. It reminded him of the survivors living under the Winterfell Crypts. The proud people of Westeros reduced to living atop mountains like old crows and beneath crypts like rats. Jon then said.

"You can't just give up; this world is not dead yet." Jon asked astonished by the amount of despair in the eyes of so many. Gendry put a hand on Jon's shoulder, the same hopelessness in his eyes.

"C'mon…let's just keep moving." With that there was a dead silence the rest of the way to the Eyrie. The occasional undead would pass by and quickly be dispatched by the large group of living men. Aside from that, the road to the Eyrie was a cold, quiet and very slow pace. After about a week of trudging through snow and ice. The group eventually arrived at the Bloody Gate, it was more like a castle that guarded the to Eyrie. It was surrounded by archers and haggard looking Knights of the Vale. Gendry went up and spoke to one of the man in charge. Kevan approached Jon and said.

"I've been to the Vale, it's actually a really nice-looking place. You think there's a Sept in there?" One of the Valesmen in the company of twenty got a good chuckle out of this.

"What you ain't got no Septs in the Westerlands?" Kevan turned to him, and sternly said.

"Well the dead are sort of crawling all over e'm so attendance is kind of down." This got a good chuckle from the Valesmen. Kevan seemed to be making good friends with the soldiers of the Vale. He preached the Faith of the Seven constantly, but other than that Kevan was witty enough to crack jokes with the Valesmen. Eventually after a brief conversation, the Gendry returned. They were given passage to ascend into the Eyrie. It was dizzying to say the least, one wrong move and you could fall to your death when climbing your way up to the mountain castle that was the Eyrie. Especially now, the pathway was so slick the company of Valesmen would sway and skate a bit with each careful step. Archers littered the ramparts of the castle, it looked undermanned at best. When they approached the main gates, they opened to reveal the misery of the Eyrie. Hundreds of crammed starving men and women, huddled together trying to stay warm. The endless preaching of Septans and Red Priests where in constant battle with words of faith. It was practically a little slice of the Winterfell Crypts. Most of the men in the small company dispersed. Gendry put a hand on Jon's shoulder.

"I'm gonna speak to Lord Baelish, he'll be pleased to have two more followers." Jon nodded as Gendry walked away. Jon stubbled around for a while, Kevan went to go here the preaching of the Septans. While Jon looked for the Red Priest and the so-called Brotherhood without Banners. The Red Priests where preaching with a couple of odd looking warriors. One of them carried the strangest heraldry Jon had ever seen. It looked like a stitched together patch, that seemed like a good enough place to start. There was a tall, balding elderly preacher who looked painfully scarred with severe lashes.

"Forget not the Lord of Light, for he is with us even in the darkest of hours." The old Red Priest continued to preach before he set eyes on Jon Snow. He pointed at the bastard in utter astonishment.

"You there!" Jon paused for a moment before the old Red Priest approached him. Astonishment pouring over him. A few over followers of the man approached Jon Snow, they to where amazed by the Bastard. The feeling felt unfamiliar, being the center of attention to Jon Snow. The Red Priest bellowed.

"A testimony, a sign from the Lord himself! A man stands before us, with a fire in his heart!" The followers where amazed by the Red Priests words, before Jon said.

"What are you talking about? Get away from me." Jon said pushing the Red Priests and his followers away. The elderly Red Priest restrained himself for a moment, he grabbed Jon Snow's hand to shake it.

"Forgive me, forgive me, I'm Thoros of Myr, it's been so long…so long since I've seen a divine sign of greatness." Thoros said with a hint of join in his voice. Jon reluctantly snuck his hand out of Thoros's grip. Then he backed away to make sure the followers of the Red Priest would stop grabbing at him.

"Give me some room, what do you think I am." Jon asked angrily. Thoros then said.

"A fellow undead, brought back to life by the Lord of Light." Jon rolled his eyes, remembering the preaching's of Paelis and Brast.

"I don't care about your Lord of Light, now tell me have you seen the Night's Watch or the Brotherhood without Banners." Thoros chuckled a bit, before saying.

"Now, why do you care about the Night's Watch?" Jon Snow hesitated before saying.

"I was once the Lord Commander." A few gasps where heard in the crowd of followers of the Red God. It was then, a few men stepped forward. One of them was a grizzled middle-aged man in the old Night's Watch garb. He starred at Jon in disbelief for a moment.

"Commander Snow…is that you?" It took Jon a moment to realize who he was talking to.

"Eddison?" Jon asked, before Eddison Tollett shocked the hand of his Lord Commander.

"Lord Commander Snow, I don't believe it. Hey Maathar! Bailan, get the rest of the Watch over here!" Maathar and Bailan then began to search for their fellow Night's Watchmen. Within a few moments, a dozen or so men dressed in tattered Night's Watch cloaks approached Jon Snow. They observed him for a moment before Eddison asked.

"What happened to you?" Jon Snow shrugged restraining his joy.

"Red Priests, brought me back."

"Those Red Bastards! They were finally good for something!" Eddison Tollett jeered before playing punching Jon in arm. Friends and familiar brothers came up and shock Jon's hand eagerly. Overjoyed to see the return of their Lord Commander. Jon looked at the Night's Watch soldiers that came to greet him, there were only a dozen or so, after the initial excitement wore off, Jon asked.

"Is this everyone?" there was pause, eventually Eddison sighed and looked defeated.

"This is everyone…this is the Night's Watch?" Jon smiled before stretching his arms out and saying.

"Well then, I'm glad to see the Watch is still standing." A few cheers where made around the members of the Night's Watch. Jon looked at Thoros, the old Red Priest seemed a little angered by Jon's presence now. Jon spent the evening catching up with the remaining forces of the Night's Watch. They still admired him, certainly more so then the Red Priests. There was one question still nagging at the back of Jon's head.

"Eddison…how did the Wall come down?" Eddison sighed, and the joy in the Watchmen seemed to waver slightly.

"I can't say…there was a loud horn, a shrill thing really, sounded like the screeching of a thousand bats. Then it fell…" The memories seemed to hit the Night's Watchmen hard. Jon then asked.

"What about Ghost?" Jon asked, remembering his fearsome and loyal direwolf. Eddison scratched the back of his head.

"Eh…the last I saw that old wolf he was going South. Don't know where though Jon." Jon nodded and sighed, before he could continue his talk Thoros and Gendry approached. Gendry spoke.

"Oi Snow…Lord Baelish wants to see you."

Thoros and Gendry escorted Jon Snow to the main audience chamber of the Eyrie. Lord Baelish was a snickering figure with greying hair sitting atop a throne made from a wierdwood tree. All the while Valesman guards stood around in orderly positions. Lord Baelish stood up from his throne and said.

"Well…we hardly get any visitors to the Eyrie, let alone Visitors such as the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Jon knelt wearily at the Lord Baelish.

"Aye…M'lord." Lord Baelish smiled.

"Well, you certainly have your manners straight. Tell me, Snow, what is your want?" Lord Baelish said. Jon Snow stood up and said.

"I want to reform the Night's Watch." Lord Baelish chuckled and nodded a bit.

"A noble pursuit, reforming the institution of liars, bastards and traitors…" Lord Baelish said, descending from his high throne to meet Jon Snow at his own level. The acting Lord of the Vale went on.

"Yet we seem to be an impasse Jon Snow…come there is much to discuss."

Lord Baelish then guided Jon Snow through the winding halls of the Eyrie. Petyr Baelish escorted Jon Snow to a small private room with a large table in the shape of Westeros.

"I had this custom made you know, based off the one in Dragonstone." Lord Baelish said taking a seat at the head of the Westeros shaped table. Jon sat next to Lord Baelish uneasily.

"I don't care about your fancy table, just tell me what you want with my fellow Watchmen." Jon asked suddenly. Lord Baelish poured some wine and offered it to Jon who refused, he took a small swig.

"The Eyrie is falling apart Snow, I barely have a thousand able bodied men at my disposal, I can't afford to give up one soldier let alone a dozen. At least not at a price." Lord Baelish said plainly. Jon sighed for a moment before asking.

"Name your price." The former Lord Commander said, determined to secure his loyal men.

"Now…Now…Jon Snow, there is something dire in the Eyrie. Something I can only trust you with…" Lord Baelish said as he fiddled with a small war piece and placed back on his carved table of Westeros. Jon paused for a moment before saying.

"What would that be?" Jon then noticed Petyr Baelish's eyes dart off to the door and then the window. He seemed suspicious of something.

"There are…Faceless Men in the Eyrie." Jon looked confused.

"And who might they be?" Lord Baelish chuckled a bit, he pointed at Jon Snow.

"You don't know too much do you? Never change Snow, that suits you." Jon suddenly was reminded of Ygritte, of all people, the Wildling woman whom was the love of his life. Then Jon shock his head, forgetting about the long since deceased woman. Lord Baelish took this as a direct answer to his earlier question. The current Lord of the Vale sighed before explaining.

"The Faceless Men are a particularly zealous group of assassins, they come were ever people beg to die. In times like these, I presume more people then not desire Death." Lord Baelish said with a crocked smile on his face. Jon replied.

"You want me to find these Faceless Men and what?"

"Kill them of course, only you can do it, you I trust. Snuff them out for me, and I will be in debt to you Jon Snow." Lord Baelish said sagely.

"Why do you care if people die or not Lord Baelish?" Jon said trying to sound respectful.

"I don't…but I do need more than just ashes and snow to rule over Jon Snow…" Lord Baelish said with a smirk. Jon got up swiftly, and on his way out said.

"I'll do your task, but then I better get my fellow Watchmen back." Before Jon left, Lord Baelish said.

"One more thing Jon…how's your sister?" There was a look of genuine concern on Petyr Baelish's face for a moment, but former Lord Commander did not seem to pick up on it. Jon paused before saying.

"Quite well, all things considered." Relief washed over Petyr Baelish who waved Jon Snow goodbye and took a sip of his wine.

 **Authors Note: What's up everybody. Please review I want constructive criticism. It's okay I take criticism well, I'm not like the Average Twitter User I won't block you. That being said I can't make everyone happy so if you don't like the direction, I am sorry I lost you as a reader and I hope you find a better story. Also. Two things. #1. Am I the only one who thought Littlefingers death in GOT S7 was a little odd, I mean this is Lord Petyr Baelish, I expected him to make it till the end. #2 Are the Faceless Men worshippers of Death or an Avatar of Nyarlethotep, I've never understood that personally.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jon spent hours trying to figure out how to find these faceless men, he only conveyed Lord Baelish's request with those he trusted. This included many of his brother from the Night's Watch, they sat around a campfire that's warmth was welcomed in these dire times. The snow flurried in and out, constantly taunting Jon and everyone else still alive. It was like the White Walkers were othering jibs to those not amongst their ranks. Almost willing to invite them into their fold, offering an odd peace in death. Eddison turned to Jon and asked.

"So, Jon…any ideas on how to find these…Faceless Men." Before Jon could speak, a fellow Yuri, a steward spoke up.

"I say we round up any suspicious looking folk and lock e'm in a room, if none of them kill each other they're not these Faceless Men…" Howard, a ranger of the Night's Watch groaned and replied.

"Shut up Yuri, you and your half-baked plans." Yuri went silent, all eyes returned to Jon.

"I suggest you keep a look out for now, there's about thousand people in the Eyrie, if we want to be safe we keep our heads to the ground and don't cause much of a stir." Jon said, most of his compatriots agree except for a middle-aged Ranger named Valtr.

"But why Commander Snow-

"It's just Jon for now…" Jon said sternly. Valtr nodded before going on.

"My question is Jon…what if this is a ruse? What if Lord Baelish is playing us for fools?" An awkward silence echoed throughout the same camp of about dozen Night's Watchmen. Jon sighed.

"I'm afraid I don't have a clear answer…but if we want to be free from Lord Baelish's grasp, we must serve him for now…" Jon said quietly, this seemed to placate the Watchmen. It was then the small camp began to disperse. Jon decided to wander the halls of the Eyrie. He felt propelled by the need to puzzle through the madness of recent events. The halls were mostly empty, by then but eventually Jon came across Kevan. Still wearing his odd ill-fitting armor.

"Hello, Jon…do you know where I can find a room?" Jon shock his head in the negative. Just then a servant girl approached. She held herself well despite her situation, what with it being the end of the world in most regards.

"Lord Baelish has set aside rooms for Jon Snow and his compatriots." Kevan nodded, Jon stared with some curiosity. This girl seemed very familiar, yet he had never this girl. What with her deep blue eyes and pitch-black hair. So Jon simply replied.

"Thank you…"

"Oh, anything for you Jon." It felt weird to have a girl he barely knew call him by his first name. Jon shrugged it off though. The servant girl guided Jon and Kevan up the stair down successive hallways, following routes she assured the two men would lead to their rooms. They came across a narrow hallway with small rooms clearly meant for servants that been cleared out. Jon entered one and Kevan the other across from Jon's. As the former Lord Commander entered, he saw how spare the room was, and then made a dive for the bed. The former Lord Commander contemplated how Jon had gotten into his position. He had fought against the dead, the living, giants and assassins and what decisions he had made to get here. After that Jon took a brief nap, maybe his dreams would comfort him. Though he doubted it.

* * *

 _Jon dreamt of Winterfell, when he was merely a lad of nine. He Robb, Sansa and Arya where having a snow ball fight. Bran had been too young to partake and Rickon had not even been born yet. Those were simple times really. Lady Stark had not been around to scold Jon for playing with her true born children. So Jon made the most of it. It was Jon and Robb against Sansa and Arya, you might think it would be unfair, but Arya was great at making snow balls, even at five. She managed to hit Jon smack in the face with one of them. Jon tried to pelt her with a clump of snow. But as he gathered the snow, timed stopped for a moment. He turned to see an peculiar, a large raven with three eyes perched on a tree. It reminded him of Commander Mormont's raven, who knows what happened to that old bird._

" _Snow." It called out to the young boy. Jon stepped forward and began to follow as the Three-Eyed Raven began to fly away. Jon run after it, as it flew through the tree lines. He followed for miles, until he came across an unusual sight. A large wolf, bigger than any dire-wolf kneeling over a dead dragon. It howled in pain and sorrow. Upon further inspection, Jon could see a dead wolf about the same size by the dead Dragon's side. It was then the living Wolf nuzzled a small wolf with white fur and the eyes of a dragon. This small wolf caught sight of Jon, and made a sound not like that of a wolf, but a dragon. The Raven then cried out._

" _Snow."_

* * *

Jon woke up hours later, annoyed. He was still incredibly tired.

"I'm losing my mind…" Jon said before getting out of bed and walking out of his room. There was a guard outside his room. He seemed to be on patrol, that servant girl from earlier was also there.

"Good evening, how goes it?" Jon asked in passing. The guard turned to Jon with a welcoming smile.

"It's a fine night Lord Commander, it always is now adays I suppose." Jon still felt the Lord Commander title was a bit unearned. He need to preform another vote, just another thing on his plate of problems. The former Lord Commander was about to leave when he saw something sitting against the floor, a small wooden box about the size of a man's face.

"What's that?" Jon Snow asked curiously turning to face the guard and servant girl. The servant girl turned to the guard, annoyed. The guard stammered for a moment before saying.

"Oh Seven Hells…I almost forgot that's for you…forgive me lord." The guard picked up the box and passed it to Jon.

"Someone left me a box? Jon asked, confused.

"I believe so sir, I mean, there's no name out, so we just assumed…" The guard said innocently enough.

"Who brought it here?" Jon asked growing more suspicious. This time the servant girl stepped in.

"It was…here when we arrived, Jon Snow…" The guard then passed the box to Jon who opened it up to find nothing. There was nothing within box, Jon decided to do an old trick he learned when spending an evening with Measter Luwin. He gave the box back to the guard and asked.

"What's your name, Guard?"

"Corlend, sir. Lord Baelish sent me to protect you from the-

Jon cut him off. "Save your stories for the campfire, Corlend. Just hold the box up so the front faces the opposite wall." The guard did so wearily, the servant girl watched still clearly annoyed. Jon took up position next to the guard, and carefully examined the lid, and realized there were two lids. No darts came flying, there was no hot burning aside. Instead there were faces of men and women stacked on top of each other. Jon's eyes grew wide.

"Who gave you this box?" Jon asked hastily. The guard shock his head.

"Nobody, nobody did." It was then the servant girl approached, trying to ease Jon.

"Jon, please calm yourself. Let us get one of the captains and we can sort this before—

"All of my life, I've been a bastard of Ned Stark, I've been dealing with everyone I meet looking down upon with disdain. Let me tell you, in all of those years, I've never met a guard whose apologized for, especially to a Bastard." The guard looked like an innocent and confused child who had been struck without reason. It was then his face twitched into a grin and snickered.

"Who'd've thought that politeness could get you into so much trouble." His voice became arrogant and rough, like a veteran soldier. The servant girl turned to the guard, and realizing the jig was up, what looked like a rapier.

"You just had to leave your box there didn't you?" She said to the guard, the guard rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd pick up servant girl." The guard said with a snicker. The girl sighed as the guard drew a large mace. Jon drew Longclaw and got into a fighting stance.

"You're the Faceless Men, I take it…?" The guard laughed again, he seemed a bit crazier than the girl.

"Yes, we are."

Jon steadied his sword arm and asked. "Who sent you?" The guard took a step forward, and twirled his mace menacingly.

"Why God himself." The guard answered, Jon took a step back and then said.

"Any particular God, just in case I want to lodge a complaint?" Without warning the Guard thrust his mace at Jon who jumped back and parried the blow.

"Why the Many-Faced God, the one true God of this world."

Trying to get a good hit on him. This continued for a while, a few blows coming dangerously close to killing Jon. This man, this faceless man was stronger than he had any right to be. Jon was able to get good slice right into the guard's right check cutting flesh and cracking teeth. But the guard still fought on, on top of that, the Servant Girl was weaving her way around to face Jon rapier in hand. The girl was much more skilled then the guard, she even managed to slice open Jon's left arm with the tip of her blade. All of this despite Jon's efforts to parry with Longclaw.

"You look so tired Jon…rest now, the pain will be over soon." She stepped forward toward an angle trying the close the gap between them, stepping on the guard's feet in the meantime. The guard back off for a moment. Jon hit her with the pommel of Longclaw, causing the girl to step back disoriented for a few moments. This allowed the guard to step forward again and nearly take Jon's head off with his mace. Jon barely parried, but then the guard made a snatch for Jon's hand. Normally Jon would have let him take it so he could stab him in the throat, but he waved his mace around like a wild man. So instead, Jon grabbed his neck before the guard could snatch it and forced him to the ground. The Lord Commander then bashed the guard's skull into the ground, with enough force to knock him unconscious. Jon wearily stood up, barely on his two feet. It was then the servant girl charged at him and pinned Jon to the wall.

"You're so tired…" She said sorrowfully, before nearly stabbing him again. But luckily, Kevan turned up and bashed the girl's head in with the pommel of his broken sword. This knocked her out as well. Jon descended for moment before gasping for breath. Kevan helped him to his feet.

"Jon what's going on, how is it a servant nearly killed you?" Kevan asked, Jon then breathed out.

"They're the faceless men." Jon said still catching his breathe.

"The what?" Kevan asked, Jon quickly explained.

"Assassins, they tear off people's faces, and wear them to blend in." Kevan quickly got the message. Before looking down at the guard, sure enough, two faces' where stick out of his torn head. One of the guard Corlend, and the other of a Braavosi man. Jon and Kevan then looked down the unconscious servant girl. Jon knelt beside the girl and looked for a place to pull away the Faceless Girl's mask. He did, and it revealed a familiar face, one he knew all too well. For a moment, Jon did not believe it but instead looked for another mask hoping this was a sick joke. He then said under his breathe.

"Arya…"

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **School work** **is painful sometimes, but here I am. With this new chapter, oh boy, getting into the good stuff now**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: A New Voyage

Jon and Kevan carried the unconscious Arya into a nearby room, they then gingerly put her on one of the spare beds. Kevan was given the basic rundown of who Arya was, though there seemed to be some gaps in Jon's story that the novice knight was keen to point out.

"Okay…so this is your younger sister…and she just tried to kill you Jon because?" Kevan asked curiously, Jon did not have an answer. He had not been in contact with his family for years at this point. Though the former lord Commander could not imagine that they could change so much over the course of a decade. Sansa stayed relatively the same, and Arya when she spoke seemed tired of all things. Not angry or determined, with not one ounce her curiosity and wit, just tired. What had happened to his sister. The thought would have plagued Jon's mind, if Kevan had not said.

"So…I think we best tell Lord Baelish that these Faceless Man…and girl…are under wraps. We should we tell him now Jon?" Kevan said beginning to shuffle out of the room, Jon jumped in front of the knight and whispered.

"I'll go tell Lord Baelish you stay here, and keep an eye on Arya…" Jon said sternly. Kevan chuckled in astonishment.

"She just tried to kill you Commander Snow…plus she's a Faceless Man…. girl." Kevan said gesturing to the unconscious girl on the bed, she almost looked peaceful. Jon grabbed Kevan by the shoulders.

"Arya is family…she means the world to me, please Kevan. I don't have much family left. Please do this for me." Jon said earnestly, staring straight into Kevan's visor. Jon saw the boy's eyes for probably the first time, they seemed oddly still and glassy. Kevan nodded and said.

"I don't claim to understand family…but I'll do this task if you insist Commander Snow." Kevan replied, before going over to a nearby chair, and watched over Arya. Jon nodded before.

"Kevan, I will not forget this kindness." Jon marched out of the room and collected the body of the Faceless Man, he then began his march over to Lord Baelish's audience chamber. Lord Baelish sat as smugly as ever on his throne made from a weirwood tree. His guards stationed around the room, as were many onlookers once news reached them of Jon's exploits. Many denizens of the Eyrie witnessed Jon Snow carrying the body of one of guards, the news of a such a curiosity spread like wildfire. As were the assertions Jon made about this corpse being that of a Faceless Man. Lord Baelish got up from his throne and walked down to examine the corpse. He moved the man's head from side to side, and even removed one of the Corlend's many faces. The crowd gasped in surprise, not many people where accustomed to seeing a Faceless Man. Petyr Baelish then turned to Jon with a gleeful smile on his face.

"Is this the only one?" The Lord of the Eyrie asked in earnest, Jon nodded in the affirmative.

"Aye just the one…" Jon replied, as Lord Baelish walked up to his throne. He stood beside it, and made a grand proclamation.

"Then it is within my power Lord Snow…to give you back your men…nothing more…nothing less…" Jon was stunned, thankful that Lord Baelish upheld his end of the bargain.

It was then, another amazing thing happened. Gendry and a few of his few men stepped forward from out of the crowd. The soldier under Lord Baelish stood tall and yelled from position.

"I along with seven men volunteer to head out with Jon Snow…" Gendry stated, with a reserved look in his eyes. The rest of the room, went deathly silent. Lord Baelish tried to hide his anger with a slight smile. It was easy to see through.

"Oh…You would abandon your post…" Lord Baelish asked from across the room. "You would abandon everyone in this hall, I've been generous with Lord Snow…I can't risk having more men leaving me behind." Lord Baelish said, it was not entirely a manipulative argument.

Gendry nodded for a moment.

"Aye…but what of the outside world, surely you don't intend to spend the rest of your days here Lord Baelish…trembling in your boots, that's unbecoming." Gendry replied, sternly. Whispers echoed throughout the Throne Room. Lord Baelish was looking rather perturbed by the young soldier's remarks.

"Oh…but of course…you have opened my eyes Young Gendry…but be warned. I might not graciously be able to accept your return…if you turn up dead in the cold darkness." Lord Baelish said, calculating every word he spoke.

Gendry nodded as he and his brigade of a dozen or so men went down to meet Jon Snow. Jon patted Gendry on the back and whispered to him.

"You don't have to this."

"I want to do this…and these men do to. Where tired of licking Baelish's bootstraps anyway." Gendry said sternly. Jon nodded before taking him aside yet again.

"Then I need you to do something for me." Jon whispered quietly so only he and Gendry could hear.

Meanwhile, Kevan sat cautiously in the corner of the room. Reading the sacred texts on the seven, he read up on his favorite of the seven. The Maiden, the beautiful innocent maiden, was somewhat of an obsession of the young knight. Yet his reading was cut short when, Arya began to stir unsettlingly in her sleep. Kevan sat next to Arya from a distance away. His hand reached to that broken sword of his, he kept muttering his prayers to the Seven. Something that was a bit of a habit for him whenever he was nervous or scared. Arya stirred in her sleep, until she got up stiffly. Kevan stood up and approached with that shaky sword arm of his.

"Halt…Faceless Man…girl…or else I will-

Arya just stared at this patchwork knight, not in confusion or anger. But with an emotionless tired face, she looked so worn. She then smiled a bit from her spot on her bed.

"Oh please, one such as you can't grant death…." Arya said in amusement, Kevan edged his shaky sword closer to Arya's neck, only for her to snatch that sword from his hand and point it back at him. "Looks like you lost your claws…" Arya mused with a tired cheeky girl, Kevan stammered as he backed away.

Arya got up from her bed and began to edge him closer to the wall of the room.

"Look at you…you're even worse then Jon, tired, sad and barely alive…I understand. Even if it is one such as you…" Arya mused, as she looked passed his mask and into his eyes. "Let me grant you peace…"

"No…" Kevan said mustering all the confidence he could, Arya seemed enraged.

"What…tell me why?" Arya asked, Kevan tried to relax and explain himself.

"I still have work to do…for my Lady, the most beautiful goddess, taken away along with my faith…I have work to do…please…let me grant death, then you can take me, I swore up and down, upon my faith." Kevan pleaded desperately. Arya titled her head in confusion but then smiled maliciously.

"I see, well in that case…" Arya said with a grin. "I'll be leaving now."

She said with as she strutted to the door. Kevan drew his broken sword again.

"I can't let you leave…I will kill you, I swear." Kevan said, his sword arm shaky, Arya chuckled.

"Sure, you will, and then you'll become the King of Westeros…" Arya mused with that sly of glint in her eyes. She opened the door, ready to hide out in the castle. Only to come face to face with an old acquaintance. "Oh…it's you." Arya said with some amount of shock.

"Hello, Arry." Gendry said with a friendly smile, before punching Arya in the face knocking her out cold. Kevan sheathed his broken sword and marched over to him in the way only a knight such as he could.

"You just punched a lady, in the face no less." Kevan cried in disbelief, Gendry only chuckled as he picked up the unconscious Arya throwing her over his shoulder.

"Yep, trust me, she's the kinda girl that appreciates that sort of thing." Gendry laughed, as he walked out of the small bedroom.

"Wait, where are you going?" Kevan asked, following Gendry. "I need to keep an eye on her for Commander Snow."

"Well, I just got marching orders from your Commander. So, you better make haste." Gendry said with a grin, Kevan complied with the older solider.

Lord Baelish did not offer much food, or resources. But Jon Snow did not mind, he had the Night's Watch back and a few more loyal men at his side. They marched out of The Eyrie and out into the cold darkness. Then, they all thirty men, plus an unconscious Arya walked Northward until they reached Heart's Home. It was abandoned like most of the towns in the surrounding area, but it offered much in the way of game and ships. When Jon Snow looked over the abandoned town from a far, one of his men, Yuri asked.

"What now Lord Snow? Where do we sail?"

"To Dragonstone." Jon replied before continuing onward.


End file.
